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THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

GIFT  OF 

Professor  Bertrand  Bronson 


UJJ^JgaiiminfaillffltliaBffalii^iliiS^'ti^ni^;^ 


THE    PRINCESS 


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PRINCESS 

BY 

ALFRED.  LORD  TENNYSON 

WITH  DRAWINGS  BY 

HOWARD  CHANDLER  CHRISTY 


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Copyrifilit,   191  I 
THE  BOBBS-MERRILL  COMPANY 


PROLOGUE 


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PROLOGUE 


Sir  Walter  Viviax  all  a  sunimtr's  day 
Gave  his  broad  lawns  until  tiic  set  of  sun 
Up  to  the  people;  thither  flock'd  at  noon 
His  tenants,  wife  and  child,  and  thither  half 
The  neighboring  borough  with  their  Institute, 
Of  which  he  was  the  j)atron.      I  was  there 
From  college,  visiting  the  son, — the  son 
A  Walter  too, — witii  others  of  our  set. 
Five  others  ;  we  were  seven  at  Vivian-place. 

And   me  that   morning  Walter  sliow'd   the 

house, 
Greek,  set  with  busts.      From  vases  in  the  hall 
J'lowers  of  all  heavens,  and  lovelier  than  their 

names. 
Grew  side  by  side ;  and  on  the  pavement  lay 
Carved  stones  of  the  Abbey-ruin  in  the  park. 
Huge  Ammonites,  and  the  first  bones  of  Time  ; 
And  on  the  tables  every  clime  and  age 
Jumbled  together:  celts  and  calumets. 
Claymore  and   snow-siioc.  toys  jn   lava,  fans 
Of  sandal,  amber,  ancient  rosaries. 


Laboriou.s  orient  ivory  sphere  in  sphere, 
The  cursed  Malayan  crease,  ami  battle-cluks 
From  the  isles  of  palm  ;  and   higher  on  the 

walls. 
Betwixt  the  monstrous  horns  of  elk  and  deer, 
His  own  forefathers'  arms  and  armor  hung. 

And  'this,"  he  said,  'was  Hugh's  at  Agin- 

court ; 
And  that  was  old  Sir  Ralph's  at  Ascalon. 
A  good  knight  he!  «e  keep  a  chronicle 
With    all    about     him,' — which    he    brought, 

and  I 
Dived    in    a    hoard    of    tales    that    dealt    with 

knights 
Half-legend,  half-historic,   counts  and  kings 
Who  laid  about  them  at  their  wills  and  died; 
And  mixt  with  these  a  lady,  one  that  arni'd 
Her  own  fair  head,  and  sallving  thro' 

the  gate. 
Had  beat  her  foes  with  slaughter  from  her 

walls. 


THE     PRIN  CESS 


Q 


J 


'O  miracle  of  women,'  said  the  book, 
'O  nohle  lieart  who,  bein<i;  stniit-bcsictfcd 
By   tliis   wild    kino-   to   t'oi'ci'   iier   to   his   wish. 
Nor  bent,  nor  broke,   nor  siuinn'd   a  sokber'.s 

deatli, 
But  now  wlien  all  was  lost  or  seeiii'd  as  lost — 
Her  stature  more  I  ban  mortal  in  the  ijurst 
Ol'  sunrise,  her  arm  lifted,  eves  on  fii-e — 
Brake  with  a  blast  of  trunijiets  from  the  p;ate. 
And.  fallini;'  on  them  like  a  tbunderboU, 
She  trampled  some  beniath  Iki-  horses'  heels, 
And  .some  were  whelm'd   with   missiles  of  the 

wall. 
And   some  were   pushM   with   lances   froni  the 

rock. 
And    j)art    «ere   drouuM    within   the   uhirllng 

brook ; 

0  miracle  of  noble  womanhood  !" 

So  sany  the  j^allant,  ^'lorious  chronicle; 
And.  I  all  rapt  in  this,  'Come  out,'  lu'  said, 
'To  the  Allbev  :  there  is  Aunt  Elizabeth 
And  sister  I, ilia  with  the   rest.'      We   went — 

1  kept   the  liook   and   had   my   finger   in   it — 
Down  thro'  the  park.      Strange  was  the  sight 

to  me; 
For  all   the  sloping   jtasture  nuirnuii''d.  sown 
With  happy  faces  and  with  holiday. 
Thei-e  moved  the  multitudi',  a  thoasand  heads; 
The   j)atient   leadt'rs  of  their  Institute 
Taught   lliem   with   facts.      One  rear'd  a   font 

of  stone 
And  drew,  fi-om  butts  of  water  on  the  slope. 
The    fountain    of   the   moment,    ])]aving.   now 
A  twisted  snake,  and  now  a  rain  of  jtearls, 
(h-  steep-up  sjiout  whereon  the  gilded  liall 
Danced  like  a  wisp;  and  somewhat  lower  down 
A  man  with  knobs  and  wires  and  vials  fired 
A  cannon  !  Echo  answcr'd  in  her  sleep 
From  hollow  fields;   and   liere  were  telescojjes 
Fin-  .a/ure  views  ;  and   there  a  group  of  girls 
In  circle  waited,  whom  the  electric  sliock 
Disbnk'd    with    shrieks    anil   laughter;   round 

thr  lake 


A   little  clock-work  steamer  paddling  plied 
And  shook  the  lilies;  perch'd  about  the  knolls 
\    dozrn  angry  models  jetted  steam; 
A    ))etty  i-ailuay  i-an  ;  a  fire-balloon 
Rose  gem-like  up  befoi-e  the  dusky  groves 
And  dro])t  a  fairy  j)arachute  and  pa.st; 
And   till  re  thro'  twenty   posts  of  telegraph 
Tliey  fiash'd  .a  saucy  message  to  and  fro 
Between  thr  mimic  stations;  so  that  sjjort 
Went  hand  in  hand  witl)  science;  othenvhere 
I'lUT  spiiit  ;  a  lurd  of  boys  with  clamor  bowl'd 
And  stuinp'd  the  wicket;  babies  roll'd  about 
Like  tumbled    fi-uit    in    grass;   and   men  and 
maids 

Arranged    a    country    dance,    and    flew    thro' 

light 
And  ,s1i;l(1()\\  ,  \\\\\V-  till'  twjina'llnir  violin 
Struck  up  with  Soldier-laddie,  and  overhead 
The   bio.'id    ambrosial    aisles   of  lofty   lime 
Made  noise  with  bees  and  breeze  from  end  to 

end. 

Strange  was  the  sight  and  smacking  of  the 
time ; 

And  long  we  gazed,  but  satiate<l  at  length 

Came    to    the    i-uins.     Iligli-arcird    and    ivy- 

clas])t. 
Of  finest  Gothic  lighter  than  a  fire, 
Tlii'ii"  onr  wide  chasm  of  time  and  frost  tiiey 

gave 

'i'lie  2)ark,  the  crowd,  the  house;  but  all  within 

Tlie  sward  was  ti-im  as  any  garden  lawn. 

And   here -we   lit    on   .\unt    l-'.lizabeth. 

And  Lilia  with  the  rest,  and  lady   friends 

From    neighbor   seats;   and    there   w.a.s   Ralph 
liims(.'lf, 

A    broken  statue  propt  against  the  wall. 
As  gay  as  luiv.      Lilia.  wild  with  spurt. 
Half  child,  half  woman  as  she  was,  had  wound 
.■\  scarf  of  orange  round  the  stony  helm, 
.\nd   i-obed   th.e  shoulders  in   a  rosy  silk, 
Tli.at  made  the  old  wai-rior  from  his  ivied  nook 
Glow  like  a  siuibeam.      Near  his  tomb  a  feast 
Slione,  silver-set  ;  .about   it   lay  the  guests. 
And  there  we   join'd  them;  then  tlic  maiden 
.aunt 


A   MEDLEY 


Took    tills    fair   day    for   text,    and    from    it 

preach'd 
An  universal  culture  for  the  crowd, 
And   all  things   (Treat.      But  we,   unwortliier, 

tol<l 
Of  colleo-e:  he  had  eliinliM  across  the  spikes. 
And  he  had  squeezed  himself  hetwixt  Hie  bars, 
And  he  had  breathed  the  rroetiir's  d(>,i;s  ;  and 

one 
Discuss'd  his  tutor,  rou<;h  to  conuiion  men. 
Rut  honevint;-  at  the  whisjHr  of  a  lord; 
And  one  tlie  jMaster,  as  a  rooue  in  grain 
A'encer'd  with  sanctimonious  theory. 

But  while  Ihey  talk'd.  above  their  heads  I 

saw 
The  feudal  warrior  lady-clad  ;  which  brought 
My  book  to  mind,  and  opening  this  I  read 
Of  old  Sir  Ralph  a  page  or  two  that   rang 
With  tilt  and  tourney:  then  the  tale  of  her 
That  drove  her  foes  with  slaughter  from  her 

walls, 
And     nuK'h     I     jiraised     her     nobleness,     and 

'Where,' 
Ask'd  Walter,  patting  T.ilia'.s  head — she   lay 
Beside  liim — 'lives  there  such  a  woman  now?' 

Quick  answer'd  Lilia:   'There  are  thousands 

now 
Such  women  ;  but  convention  beats  them  down  ; 
It  is  but  bringing  up ;  no  more  than  that. 
You  men  have  done  it — how  I  hate  you  all ! 
Ah,  were  I  something  great!      I  wish  I  were 
Some  mighty  poetess,  I  would  shame 

you    then. 
That   love   to   keep    us   children.      O,    I    wish 
Tliat  I  were  some  great  princess,  I  would  build 
Far  off  from  men  a  college  like  a  man's, 
And    I   would   teach    them    all    that   men    arc 

taught ; 
W^e  are  twice  as  quick !'      And  here  she  shook 

a.side 
The   hand   that  play'd   the   patron    with   her 

ciu'ls. 


And   one   said   smiling:      'Pretty   were  the 

sight 
If  our  old  halls  could  change  their  sex,  and 

flaunt 
With  j)rudes  for  proctors,  dowagers  for  deans, 
And  sweet  girl-graduates  in  their  golden  hair. 
I  think  they  should  not  wear  our  nisty  gowns,      j 
But  move  lis  rich  as  Emperor-moths,  or  Ralph     ;  ^J^ 
Who  shines  so  in  tlie  cin-ner:  yet  I  fear,  ■  -^ 

If  there  were  many  Lilias  in  the  brood. 
However  deep  you  might  embower  the  nest, 
Some  boy  would  sj)y   it.' 

At  this  upon  the  sward 
She  tapt  her  tiny  silkcn-sandall'd  foot:  I 

'That's  your  lijiht  wav:  but  I  would  make  it        f 

deatli 
For  any  male  thing  but  to  peep  at  us.'  j   ,1 

Petulant    she    spoke,    and    at    herself    she 

laugh'd ; 
A   rosebud  .set  with  little  wilful  thorns. 
And  sweet  as  English  air  could  make  her,  she ! 
But  Walter  hail'd  a  score  of  names  upon  her, 
And   'petty    Ogress,'    and   "ungrateful    Puss,' 
And   swore  he  long'd  at  college,  only  long'd. 
All  else  was  well,  for  she-society. 
They  boated  and  they  cricketed :  they  talk'd 
At  wine,  in  clubs,  of  art,  of  politics; 
They  lo.st  their  weeks  ;  they  vext  the  souls  of 

deans ; 
They    rode;    they    betted;    made    a   hundi-ed 

friends. 
And  caught  the  blossom  of  the  flying  terms. 
But  miss'd  the  mignonette  of  Vivian-place, 
The  little  hearth-flower  Lilia.      Thus  he  spoke, 
Part  banter,  part  affection. 

'True,'  she  said, 
'We  doubt  not  that.      O.  yes,  you  miss'd  us 

nuich ! 
ril  stake  my  ruby  ring  upon  it  you  did.' 

She  held  it  out ;  and  as  a  parrot  tunis 
Up  thro'  gilt  wires  a  crafty  loving  eye, 
And  takes  a  lady's  finger  with  all  care, 


I 


THE      PRINCESS. 


Ami  bites  it  for  true  heart  aiul  lujt  for  liariii, 
So  lie  with  Lilia's.      Daintily  she  shriek'd 
And  wrunj^"  it.      'Doul)t  my  word  a^ain  !'  he 

said. 
'Come,    listen !   here    is    j)roof   that    you    were 

niiss'd : 
VVe   se\en   stny'd   at    Christmas   up   to   read; 
And  there  we  took  one  tutor  as  to  read. 
The    iiard-ifrain'il    Musls    of    the    euhe    and 

square 
Were  out  of  seasim  :  never  man,  I  think. 
So  iiiouldcr'd   in  a  sinecure  as  he; 
For  uhllc  our  cloisters  echo'd  frosty  feet, 
And   our   long   walks   wei'e  stript   as  bare  as 

brooms. 
We  did  but  talk  you  over,  pledge  you  all 
In  wassail ;  often,  like  as  many  girl.s — 
Sick  for  tlie  hollies  and   the  yews  of  home — 
As  many  little  trifling  Lilias — play'd 
Charades    and    riddles    as    at    Christmas   here, 
And  :cli(it'.'i  III//  thuiii^lit  and  7clicn  iiinJ  -.chcre 

(I III]    ll(l7C, 

And  often  told   a   tale   from   mouth   to  mouth 
As  here  at  Christma.s.' 

She  remember'd  tliat : 
A  pleasant  game,  she  thought.      She  liked  it 

more 
Than   magic   nnisic,   forfeit.s,  all   the  rest. 
But  these — what   kind   of  tales  did  men  tell 

men, 
She  wondirM.  bv  themselves? 

A    half  disdain 
PerchM  on  the  pouted  blossom  of  her  lips; 
And  ^Valter  nodded  at  me:      '//<'  began. 
The  rest   would   follow,  eacli  in  turn ;  and   so 
We    fcn-ged   a   sevenfold   story.      Kind.''   what 

kind.^ 
Chimeras,  crotchets.  Christmas  solecisni.s; 
Seven-headed  monsters  only  made  to  kill 
Time  by  the  tire  in  winter.' 

'Kill  him  now, 
The  tyrant!      Kill  him  in  the  summer  too,' 
Said  I, ilia;  'Why  not  now.'''  the  iiiaidrn  aunt. 
'^^'hv  not  a  summer's  as  a  winter's  tale? 


A  tale  for  siunnier  as  befits  the  time, 

And  something  it  .sjiould  be  to  suit  the  place, 

Heroic,    for   a   hero    lie.s   beneath. 

Grave,  solemn  !' 

Walter   warp'd   his   mouth   at  this 
To  something  so  mock-solemn,  that  I  laugh'd. 
And    Lilia    woke    with    sudden-shrilling   mirth 
An  echo  like  a  ghostiv  woodpecker 
Hid  in  the  ruins:  till  the  maiden  aunt — 
A  little  sense  of  wrong  had  touch'd 

her  face 
With  color-     turn'd  to  me  with  'As  you  will; 
Heroic  if  you  will,  or  what  you  will. 
Or  be  yourself  your  hero  if  you  will.' 

'Take  Lilia,  then,  for  heroine.'  clr.mor'd  he. 
'And  make  her  some  great  jirincess,  six  feet 

high. 
Grand,  epic,  homicidal:  and  bo  you 
The  prince  to  win  her!" 

'Then  follow  me,  the  prince,' 
I  answered,  'each  be  iiero  in  his  turn! 
Seven  and  yet  one,  like  shadows  in  a  dream. — 
Heroic  setans  our  ])rincess  as  rt(|uired — 
But    something   made    to   suit    with   time   and 

place, 
A   Gothic  ruin  and  a  Grecian  house, 
A   talk   of  college   and  of  ladies'  rights, 
A    feudal    knight    in   silken   masquerade. 
And.  yonder,  shrieks  and  strange  experiments 
For  uhieh  the  good  Sir  ]{alph  had  liurut  them 

all— 
This  uvvc  a  niedlev  !  we  slioidd  have  him  back 
^^  ho  told  the  ■■\Vuiter"s  Talc"  to  do  it  for  us. 
No  matter:  we  will  sav  whativer  comes. 
And  let  the  ladies  sing  iis.  if  tliey  will. 
From  time  to  time,  some  ballad  or  a  song 
To  give  us  breathing-space.' 

So  I  began, 

And    the   i-est    followM ;   and   the   women   sang 
BitHc'in  the  rougher  voices  of  tlie  men, 
Like  linnets  in  thr  pauses  of  the  wind: 
And  here  I  irive  the  storv  and  the  .songs. 


PART       ONE 


'■■>-, 


X:^- 


1  \i.- 


/ /V  „, t|»'"''t-ii  ^ChcihilUr  li.liri- 


SJ^V   \\\\ 


%      /^^'-it..«-'[iD(Pi/l;.Dirtii=Y'   PART       ONE 


A  Prince  I  was,  hluc-c_yc(l,  und  fair  ii:  face, 
Of  temper  amorous  as  the  first  of  j\Iay, 
With  lengths  of  yellow  ringlet,  Iii<c  a  girl, 
For  on  my  cradle  shone  the  Northern  star. 

There  lived  an  ancient  legeiul  in  our  house. 
Some  sorcerer,  whom  a  far-otf  grandsire  hurnt 
Because  he  cast  no  shadow,  had  foretold. 
Dying,  that  none  of  all  our  blootl  should  know 
The  shadow  from  the  substance,  and  tliat  one 
Should   come   to   fight   with   shadows   and   to 

fall ; 
For  so,  my  mother  said,  the  story  ran. 
And,  truly,  waking  dreams  were,  more  or  less. 
An  old  and  strange  affection  of  the  house. 
Myself  too  had  weird  seizures.  Heaven  knows 

what ! 
On  a  sudden  in  the  midst  of  men  and  day. 
And  wliile  I  walk'd  and  talk'd  as  lieretofore, 
I  sceni'd  to  move  among  a  world  of  gh.osls, 
x\nd  feel  myself  the  shadow  of  a  dream. 
Cur   great   court-Galen   poised   his    gilt-l.cad 

cane. 


Anil  pawM  his  beard,  and  muttcr'd  'catalepsy.' 
j\Iy  moiiier  j'ityiiig  made  a  thousand  prayers. 
Mv  mother  was  as  mild  as  any  .saint. 
Half-canonized  by  all  that   look'd  on  her, 
So  gracious  was  her  tact  and  tenderness; 
But    my    good     father    thought    a    king    a 

king. 
He  cared  not  for  the  atf'eeiion  of  the  house; 
He  held  his  scejjtre  like  a  penilant's  wand 
To  lasli  offence,  ;.nd  witli  long  arms  and  hands 
Reach'd   out    anil    pick'd   offenders    from    the 

mass 
For  judgment. 

Now   it  chanced   that   I   had  been. 
While  life  was  yet  in  bud  and  blade,  betroth'd 
To  one,  a  neighi)oring  Princess.      She  to  me 
Was  proxy-wedded  with  a  bootless  calf 
At  eight  years  old ;  and  still  from  time  to  time 
Came  murmurs  of  her  beauty  from  the  South, 
And  of  her  brethren,  youths  of  puissance; 
And  still  I  wore  her  picture  by  my  heart, 
And    one    dark    tress ;    and    all    around    them 

both 


THE      P  RIN  CESS 


_«., -iv^.-^  / 


Sweet   thoughts   would   swanu   as   bees   aljout 
their  queen. 

But  wlien  the  da^-s  drew  nigh  that  I  should 

wed, 
My  father  sent  ambassadors  with  furs 
And  jewels,  gifts,  to  fetch  her.  These  brought 

back 
A  present,  a  great  laJior  of  the  loom: 
And  therewithal  an  answer  vague  as  wind. 
Besides,  they  saw  the  king;  lie  took  the  gifts; 
He  said  there  was  a  compact:  tiiat  was  true; 
But  then  she  had  a  will;  was  he  to  blame.'' 
And  maiden  fancies :  loved  to  live  alone 
Among  her  women;  certain,  would  not  wed. 

That  morning  in  the  presence  room  I  stood 
With  Cvril  and  with  Florian.  m_v  two  friends: 
The  first  a  gentleman   of  iirokeii  means — 
His    father's    fault — but    given    to   starts   and 

bursts 
Of  revel;  and  the  last,  my  otlicr  heart. 
And   almost   my   half-self,   for  still   we   moved 
Together,  twinn'd  as  horse's  ear  and  eye. 

Now,  while  tliey  s])ake,  I  saw  my  fathcr'.s 

face 
Gi'ow   long   and   troubled   like   a   I'ising  mo<m, 
Inflamed   w  itii  wrath.      He  started  on  his  feet. 
Tort'    the   king's   letter.    >now'tl    it    down,   and 

rent 
U'lie  wonder  of  the  loom  thro"  warp  and  woof 
From  skirt  to  skirt  :  and  at  the  last  he  sware 
That  lie  would  send  a  liundrcd  thousand  men, 
^\ii(l  bring  her  in  a  whirlwind:  then  he  chew"<l 
The   thrice-turn'd  cud  of   wrath,  and  cook'd 

his  sjjleen, 
Connnuning  w^ith  his  captains  of  the  war. 


^^'llate■er  my  grief  to  find  her  less  than  fame, 
^lay    rue   tlie   bargain   made.'      And  Florian 

said : 
'I  have  a  sister  at  the  foreign  court. 
Who    moves    about    the    Princess;    slic,    you 

know. 
Who  wedded  with  a  nobleman  from  thence. 
He,  dying  lately,  left  her,  as  I  hear, 
The  lady  of  three  castles  in   that   land; 
Thro'  her  this  matter  might  be  sifted  clean.' 
And  Cviil.  wliisj)er'd:  "Take  me  with  vou  too.' 
Then  laughing,  "What  if  these  weird  seizures 

come 
Upon  vou  in  those  lands,  and  no  one  near 
To  point  you  out  the  shadow  from  the  truth! 
Take  me;  Fll  serve  you  better  in  a  strait; 
I  grate  on  rusty  hinges  here.'    But  'No !' 
Roar'd   the    rough   king,    'you   sliall   not ;   we 

ourself 
Will  crush  her  pretty  maiden  fancies  dead 
In  iron  gauntlets;  break  the  council  up.' 

But  when  the  council  broke,  I  rose  and  past 
Thro'    the    wild    woods    that    hung   about    the 

town  : 
Found  a  .still  place,  and  j)luck'd  her  likeness 

out : 
Laid     it     on    flowers,    and     watch'd    it    lying 

bathed 
In    the   green   gleam   of   dewy-tassell'd   trees. 
What  were  those  fancies.'^  wherefore  break  her 

troth? 
Proud   look'd   till'  lips;  but   while   I   meditated 
A   wind  arose  and   rusli'd  uj>on  the  South, 
And   shook    the   songs,   the   whispers,   and   the 

shrieks 
Of  the  wild  woods  together,  .and  a  \*oice 
\^^■nt  with  it,  "I'lillow.  follow,  thou  shalt  win.' 


At  last  I  spoke:  'Aly   father,  let  me  go. 
It  cannot  be  but  sonu'  gross  error  lies 
In  this  re])ort,  this  answer  oi   a   kuig 
Whom  all  men  rate  as  kind  •■uid  hospitable; 
Oi\  mavbe,  1  nivself,  mv  bride  once  seen, 


Then,  ere  tlie  siKei'  .sickle  of  tliat  month 
Became   lier  gold(  ii   slmlcl.   I    stole   from   court 
^Vltb   ('\rll  and   uith   l''lorian.  unj)erceived, 
C'.-it-footed  thro'  the  town  and  halt'  in  ili'ead 
To    hear    m\'    father's    clamiu'    at    our    backs 


^_    ^ 


A    MED  LEY 


With  'Ho!'  I'rom  some  baj-window  sliaku  the 

night ; 
But  all  was  quiet.  From  the  hastioiiM  walls 
Like  threaded  spiders,  one  by  one,  wc  dropt, 
And  flying  reach'd  the  frontier;  then  we  crost 
To  a  livelier  land ;  and  so  by  tiltli  and  grange, 
And  vines,  and  blowing  bosks  of  wilderness. 
We  gain'd  the  mother-eity  tliiek  with  towers, 
And  in  the  imperial  palaee  found  the  king. 

His  name  was  Gama ;  crack'd  and  small  his 

voice. 
But  bland  the  smile  that  like  a  wrinkling  wind 
On  glassy  water  drove  his  cheek  in  lines ; 
A  little  dry  old  man,  without  a  star. 
Not  like  a   king.      Three  day!*  he   feasted  us. 
And  on  the  fourth  I  spake  of  why  we  came. 
And  my  betroth'd.      'You  do  us.  Prince,'  he 

said. 
Airing  a  snowy  hand  and  signet   gem, 
*A11  honor.      We  remember  love  ourself 
In    our  sweet   youth.     There    did   a    compact 

pass 
Long  summers  back,  a  kind  of  ceremony — 
I  think  the  year  in  which  our  olives  fail'd. 
I    would    you   had   her.    Prince,    with    all    my 

heart. 
With  my   full  heart ;  but  there  were  widows 

here. 
Two  widows.  Lady  Psyche,  Lady  Blanche : 
They    fed    her   theories,   in    an<l   out    of   place 
Maintaining  that  with  equal  husbandry 
The  woman  were  an  equal  to  the  man. 
Tliey  harp'd  on  this;  with  this  our  banquets 

rang ; 
Our  dances  broke  and  buzzM  in  knots  of  talk; 
Nothing  but  this ;  my  ver^'  ears  were  hot 
To  hear  them.      Knowledge,  so  my  daughter 

held. 
Was  all  in  all :  they  had  but  been,  she  thought. 
As  children  ;  they  must  lose  the  child,  a.ssume 
The  woman.     Then,  sir,  awful  odes  she  wrote. 
Too  awful,  sure,  for  what  they  treated  of, 
But  all  she  is  and  does  is  awful ;  odes 


Ai)uut  this  losing  of  tlio  child;  and  rhymes 
And   dismal   lyrics,  proj)hesying  change 
Beyond  all   reason.      Tluse  the  women  sang; 
And   they  that  know  such   things — I   sought 

hut  peace ; 
No  critic  I — would  call  them  masterpieces. 
They  master'd  iiu\     At  last  she  begg'd  a  boon, 
A  certain  sunnner-palace  which  I  have 
ILird  by  your  father's  frontier.     I  said  no, 
Yet  being  an  easy  nian,  gave  it;  and  there, 
jMI   wild   to   found   an   University 
For  maidens,  on  the  s])ur  she  fled  ;  and  more 
We  know  not, — only  this :  they  see  no  men. 
Not  even  her  brother  Arac,  nor  the  twins 
Her  brethren,  the'  they  love  her,  look  upon 

her 
As  on  a  kind  of  paragon;  and  I — 
Pardon  me  saying  it — were  much  loth  to  breed 
Dispute  betwixt  myself  and  mine ;  but  since — 
And  I  confess  with  right — you  think  me  bound 
In  some  sort,  I  can  give  you  letters  to  her; 
And    yet,    to   speak    the    truth,    I    rate    your 

chance 
Almost  at  naked  nothing." 

Thus  the  king; 
And  I,  tlio'  nettled  that  he  seem'd  to  slur 
With  garrulous  ease  and  oily  courtesies 
Our  formal  compact,  yet,  not  less^ — all  frets 
But  chafing  me  on  fire  to  find  my  bride — 
Went   forth  again  with  both  my  friends. 

A\'e  rode 
^lany  a  long  league  back  to  the  North. 

At   last 
From  hills  that  look'd  across  a  land  of  hope 
We  (lro])t  with  evening  on  a  rustic  town 
Set  in  a  gleaming  river's  crescent-curve, 
Close  at  the  boundary  of  the  liberties; 
There,  enter'd  an  old  hostel,  call'd  mine  host 
To  council,  plied  him  with  his  richest  wines, 
And  show'd  the  late-writ  letters  of  the  king. 

He  with  a  long  low  sibilation,  stared 
As  blank  as  death  in  marble;  then  exclaim'd, 

Avei'rino-  it   was  clear  against   all   rides 


^/'V-l^ 


X    #1.^-    ',1 


\    *=7^'-C-"i- 


THE      PRINCESS 


/X^?^- 


.1.  > 


For  anv  man  to  i^'o  ;  hut  as  liis  hraiii 
Bi'ii,-aii  ti)  inrllow,  "If  tlic  kill};.*  lu'  said, 
'Had  n'iveii  us  litters,  was  he  liouiid  to  speak!" 
Till'    kiui;'   would    hear    liiiii    out  ;"    and    at    tin 

last  — 
'J'lir  suniiiiiT  of  the  \'ine  in  all  his   veins — 
•\o   ill  u!:l    that    We   might    ni:;ke    it    worth   his 

while. 
She    oiire    had    past    th.at    way;    he    heard    her 

speak ; 
She   .seared    him;   life!   he   never   saw   the   like; 
She    lookM    as    i^rand    as    doonisda\-    and    as 

};rave! 
And   he,  he  revereni-ed  his  li"i;e-lailv  there: 
He  ahvavs  maili'  a   point   to   post   with  mares; 
His    dau};'hter    and     his    housemaid    were    the 

1jo\s  ; 
The   land,   he   understood,   fcir  mile.s  ahout 
^^'as  tiird  hv  women;  .all  the  swine  were  sows, 
Ai:il   all   the  dogs*— 

IJllt    w  liiie    he     jested    thils, 
A   thought  flasliM  tliro"  me  whieli  1  elotlic  d  in 

aet. 
Kememhering   how    We   three    jireseiited    !\laiil. 
Or  Xvmpli,  or  (Inddess.  at  high  tide  of  feast, 
III   masque  or   jiageant   at    mv    father's   court. 
We  sent   mine  host   tii   jiiireliase   female  gear; 
He  hrought   it,  and  himself,  a  sight  to  shake 
The  midritf  of  despair  with  laughter,  holp 
To  laee  us  up.  till  each  in  maiden  plumes 
A\'e  rustled;  him   we  ga\e  a  eostly  hrihe 
■  To  guerdon  silence,  mounted  our  good  steeds. 
And   holdlv    ventured   on   the   lil)erties. 

We  follow  "(1  up  I  he  ri\er  as  we  ro<le. 
And  rode  till  nndiiiglit,  when  the  college  lights 
Began  to   glister  fireflv-hke   in   copse 
And   linden   alley;   then    we   past   an   arch, 
Whereon  a  woman-stalue  rose  with  wings 
From     four-wingM     hor.ses    dark    against     the 

stars. 
And  some   inscription    ran   along   the   front, 
Hul    deep    in    shadow.       I>'ui-ther   on   we   gain'tl 
A  lillle  street  half  garden  and  half  house, 


Hul    scarce   could    hear  each,  other   speak    for 

noise 
Of    clocks    and    chimes,    like    silver    hannners 

falling 
On  sd\ir  an\i!s,  and  the  sjilash  and  stir 
Of  fountains  spouted  up  and  showering  down 
In   meshes  (if  the  /]asmiiie  and  the  rose; 
.\iid   all   ahout   us   peaPiI  the   nightingale, 
Rapt    in   her   song  and   careless  of  the  snare. 

There  stood  a  liust  of  I'allas  for  a  sign, 
My  two  -phere  lamps  hlazoiiM  like  Heaven  and 

Earth 
With   constillal  ion    and   with    continent, 
Aliove   an   eiitiy.      Riding   in,   we   call'd ; 
A   ])Iiinip-arm"d    nstleress   and    a   stalile   wench 
Came  running  at  the  call,  and  help'il  us  down. 
Then  stept  a  huxom  hostess  forlh.  and  sail'd, 
Full-hlown,   hefore   us   into  rv:oms   which   gave 
I'pon  a   ]iillar"d   porch,  the  hases  lost 
In  laurel.      \hy  we  ask'd  of  that  and  this. 
And    who    wire    tutors.      "Lailv    Blanche,'   she 

said, 
"And  Ladv   Psvclie."     •\^'hich  was  prettiest. 
Best    natured.'"      "Lady    Psyche.'      'Hers    are 

we," 
One  voice,  we  cried  ;  and  I  sat  liow  n  and  wrote 
In  such   a  hand  as   when  a   Held  of  corn 
Bows  all  its  ears  hel'ore  the  roaring  East; 

'Three  ladies  of  (he   Xorthern  eni])ire  jiray 
Your   Highness   would   enroll   them   with  your 

ow  n. 
As  Lady  Psyche's  pujiils." 

This  I  scal'd; 
The  .seal  was  Cupid  lieiit  ahove  a  scroll, 
.\iid  o'er  Ills  lie;id  Cranian  \'enus  hung, 
.\nd    raised    the    hlinding    haniiage    from    his 

eyes. 
I   gave   the  letter   to  he   sent    with   dawn; 
And  then  tn  lud.  where  half  in  do/e   I   seem'd 
To  float  .liiout  a  glimmering  night,  and  watch 
A   full  se:i  glazed  with  inufHed  moonlight  swell 
On  some  dark  shore  just  seen  th.at  it  was  rich. 


SONG 


As  thro'  the  land  at  eve  we  went, 
And   pliick'd   tlie  ripen'd  ears, 


As  llii-i)'  tiie  land  al  cvc  we  went. 

And  phu-kM  tlie  rijien'd  cars. 
We  fell  out,  my  wife  and  I, 
O,  we  fell  out,  I  know  not  wlij, 

And  kiss'd  again  with  tears. 
And  blessings  on  the  falling  out 

That  all  the  more  endears, 
VVhjn  we  fall  out  with  those  we  love 

And  kiss  again  with  tears ! 
For  wlien  we  came  where  lies  the  child 

We  lost  in  other  years, 
Tliere  above  the  little  grave, 
O,  there  above  the  little  grave, 

We  kiss'd  again  with  tears. 


P  A  R_T       TWO 


V-- li>ii">(Ul(iW)rm-ti'  lit 


4,-'«)  L.iMk.  L.il^.j  !S?^^_><.>'£^ 


P  A  RT      TWO 


xVt  break  of    day  tlie  College  Portress  came ; 

She  brought  us  ucadeiiiic  silks,  in  hue 

The  lilac,  with  a  silken  hood  to  each, 

And  zoned   with   gold;   and   now   when   these 

were  on. 
And  we  a.s  rich  as  moths  f'l-oin  dusk  cocoons, 
She,  curtseying  her  obeisance,  let  us  know 
The  Princess  Ida  waited.     Out  we  paced. 
I   first,    and    following    tlu'ci"    the   porch   that 

sang 
All   round   with   laurel,   issued   in  a   court 
Comjjact  of  lucid  marbles,  boss'd  with  lengths 
Of  classic  friize,  with  ample  awnings  gay 
Betwixt  the  pillars,   and   with  great  urns  of 

flowers. 
The  ]Muses  and  the  Graces,  group'd  in  threes, 
Enring'd  a  billowing  fountain  in  the  midst. 
And  here  and  there  on  lattice  edges  lay 
Oi-  liook  or  lute ;  Init  hastily  we  past, 
And  up  a  flight  of  stairs  into  the  hall. 


There  at  a  board  by  tome  and  paper  sat, 
WiHi   two   tame   leopards   couch't!   beside   her 

throne. 
All  beauty  compa.ss"d  in  a  female  form. 
The  Princess ;  liker  to  the  inhabitant 
Of  some  clear  j)lanet  close  upon  the  sun, 
Than  our  man's  earth  :  such  eves  were  in  her 

head. 
And    so    nmch    grace    and    power,    breathing 

down 
From  over  her  arch'd  brows,  with  every  turn 
Lived  thro"  her  to  the  tips  of  her  long  hands, 
And  to  lier  feet.      She  rose  her  height,  and 

said : 

'We  give  vou  welcome :  not  without  redound 
Of  u.se  and  glory  to  yourselves  yc  come. 
The  first-fruits  of  the  stranger;  aftertime, 
And  that    full   voice   whicli   circles  round  the 
gi-ave, 


THE      PRINCESS 


0.i 


\^:.L 


Will  rank  yoii  nnlilv,  niinfrjcd  iij)  uitli  inr. 
Wjiat  !   :u\'   the   ladies   of   your   lanil   so   tall?" 
'We    of   tlie    eourt,"    said    Cyril.      'From    the 

court.' 
She  answerM,  "then   ve  know  the  Prince'-'"  and 


'The  climax  of  his  aye!  as  tho"  there  were 
One  rose  in  all  the  world,  yoin-  Hiolmess  that. 
He    worsliips    yoiii'    ideal."      She    rejilied: 
'We  scarcely  thmight  in  mir  own  h.all  to  hear 
Thi--  l)arren   verhiaye,  current   .among  men. 
Light  coin,  the  tinsel  clink  of  comjiliment. 
Your    Higlit     from    out    your    hookies.-,    wilds 

would   seem 
As  arguing  love  of  knowledge  and  of  power: 
Your    language    proves    vnu    still    the    child. 

Indeed. 
We  dre.am  not  of  him  :  win  n  we  set  our  h.and 
To  this  great  work,  we  purjjoscd  with  (lui'sclf 
Never   to   \\vi\.      You   likewise   will   do   well. 
Ladies,  in  enteriim'  lieie.  to  cast   and  fiinii' 
The  tricks  which  make  us  toys  of  men.  that  so 
Some  future  tune,   if  so  indeed   you  will. 
You  may  with  tho^e  silf-styhd  our  lords  ,-dlv 
Your    fortunes,    justlier    halanceil.    scale    with 

scale." 

At  those  high  worils.  we,  consci(JUs  of  our- 
selves. 
Perused  the  matting;  then  an  officer 
Ro.sc  u]i.  and  read  the  statutes,  such  as  these: 
Not  for  three  year.s  to  correspond  with  home; 
Not   for  three  years  to  cross  the  lihertics: 
Not    for   three  years  to  speak  with  any  men: 
.\nd   m.inv   more,  which   hastily  subscribed. 
We   enter"d  on   the   hoards.      And   'Now,'   she 

cried, 
'Ye  are  grt'cn  wood,  see  ye  war])  not.     Look, 

our  hall ! 
Our  statues! — not  of  those  that  men  desire, 
Sleek   ( )d.Llisi|ues,   or  or.acles   of  mode. 
Nor  .stunted  s(|u;iws  of  West  or  Kast  :  hut  she 
That  taught  the  Sabine  how    to  rule,  and  she 
The  foundress  of  the  R.ahvloni.in   w.dl. 


The  Carian   Artemisia  strong  in  war. 
The   Khodojie   that    built    the   })yramid, 
C'lelia,  Cornelia,  with  the  Palmyrenc 
Th.at   fought  .\ui'eliaii.  and  the  Homan  brows 
Of  Agri]>pin.a.      Dwell  with  these,  and  lose 
Conxention.   since   to   look   on   noble   forms 
]\Likes   noble   thi'o"   tlie  sensu(!us  organism 
That  which  is  higher.    O.  lift  your  natures  up; 
Embrace  our  aims :   w  ork   out  your   freedom. 

Girls. 
Know  ledge  is  now  no  more  a  fountain  seal'd ! 
Drink  deep,  until  the  habit.s  of  the  slave, 
The  sins  of  emptiness,  gos.sip  and  spite, 
And   slander,   die.       Bettt'r   not    Ije   at   all 
Th,-ui  not  \)v  noble.     Leave  us:  you  may  go. 
To-day   the   Lady   Psyche  will   harangue 
The  fresii  arrivals  of  the  week  before: 
For  they  ])ress  in  from  ;dl  the  provinces, 
Ami   fill   the  hive." 

She  s])oke.  and  bowing  waved 
Dismissal  :  back  again  we  cr(;st  the  cour'. 
To  Lady  Psyche's.      .\s  we  enter'd  in. 
There  sat  along  the  fiirnis.  like  morning  doves 
Th.-it  sun  their  inilkv  bosoms  on  the  th.-itch, 
A  patient  range  of  ])U})ils;  >be  herself 
Erect   Ixliind   n   desk  of  satin-wood. 
A    (|uick   brunette,    well-moulded,    falcon-eyed, 
.\nd   on    the   hither   side,   or  so   slie   look'd. 
Of  twenty   suiiiiners.      At   her   left   :\   child. 
In   shining  dr.aperies.   headed   like  .'i   star, 
IFer  maiden  balie.  :\  double  Ajiril  oltl. 
.Vglai'a   slejit.      ^^'■    v.at  :   the    lady   glanced: 
Then  l''l(iri:in.  but  no  li\elier  tb.an  the  dame 
That  whisper'd  'Asses'  ears"  among  the  sedge, 
'My  sister."      'Comely,  too.  by  .-ill  th:it"s  fair,' 
Said  Cyril.      '().  hush,  hush!"  and  she  began. 

'This  world  was  once  a  fluid  h.ize  of  light. 
Till   tow.'ird   the  centre  set   the  starry   tides, 
.\nd   I'ddieil    into   sun--,   tli.at    wheeling  cast 
The  planets:  then  the  monster,  then  the  ni;ui  ; 
'l".'ittoo"d  or  W();ided.  w  inter-cl.ul   in  skins. 
ll.aw   from   the   priiiu.  .-iiid   cinishing  down   his 
m.ate. 


A    MEDLEY 


As  yet  we  find   in  barbarous   isles,  and  here 
Among  the  lowest.' 

Tliorcujjcn   slu>   took 
A  binrs-cyc  view  of  all  the  ungracious  past; 
Glanced  at  t!ie  legeiularv  Amazon 
As   emblematic   of   a   nobler  age; 
Apj)raised  the  Lycian  custom,  spoke  of  those 
Tiiat  lav  at  wine  with  Lar  and  Lucuino  ; 
Ran  down  the  Persian,  (Irecian,  Ixoman   hncs 
Of  empire,  and  thr  woman's  state  in  each. 
How   far   from   ju.st;   till    wanning   witli    her 

theme 
She   fidmined  out   lier  scorn  of  laws  Salique 
And  little-footed  C'iiina,  touch'd  on  ^Mahomet 
With  much  contempt,  and  came  to  chivalry, 
When  some  respect,  however  slight,  was  paid 
To  woman,  superstition  all  awry. 
However,  then  connnenced  the  dawn  ;  a  beam 
Had   slanted    forwarch    falling   in   a   land 
Of  j)romise :  fruit  would  follow.  Deep,  indeed, 
Their   ilebt    of   thanks   to   her   who   first   had 

dared 
To  leap  the  rotten  pales  of  prejudice, 
Disyoke  their  necks  from  custom,  and  assert 
None  lordlier  than  themselves  but  that  which 

made 
Woman    and    man.      She    had    foundid :    they 

nuist  build. 
Here    might    they    learn    whatever   men    were 

taught. 
Let  them  not  fear,  some  said  their  heads  were 

less ; 
Some  men's  were  small,  not  they  the  least  of 

men  : 
For  often   fineness   compensated   size. 
Besides  the  brain  was  like  the  hand,  and  grew 
Witli    using:   thence   the   man's,    if  more   was 

more. 
He  took  advantage  of  his  strength  to  be 
First  in  the  field ;  some  ages  had  been  lost ; 
But  woman  ripen'd  earlier,  and  her  life 
Was  longer;  and  albeit  their  glorious  names 
Were  fewer,  scattor'd  stars,  jet  since  in  truth 
The  highest  is  the  measure  of  the  man, 


And  not  the  Kaffir,  Hottentot,  IMalay, 
N(n-  tho.se  horn-handed  breakers  of  the  glebe, 
But   Homer,  Plato,  Verulani,  even  so 
With  woman:  and  in  arts  of  government 
Elizabetli  and  others,  arts  of  war 
The  peasant  Joan  and  others,  arts  of  grace 
Sap])ho  and  others  vied  with  any  man ; 
And,  last  not  least,  she  who  had  k'ft  lier  phice. 
And  bow'd  her  state  to  them,  that  tiiey  might 

grow 
To  use  and  power  on  this  oasis,  lapt 
In  the  arms  of  leisure,  sacred  from  tiic  blight 
Of  ancient   influence   and    scorn. 

At  last 
Slie  rose  upon  a  wind  of  prophecy 
Dilating  on  the  future:  'everywhere 
Two  heads  in  council,  two  beside  the  hearth, 
Two   in   the   tangled   l)\isiness  of  thi'  world. 
Two  in  the  liberal  offices  of  life. 
Two  j)hnnmets  drojit   from  one  to  sound  the 

ahvss 
Of  science  and  the  secrets  of  the  mind; 
Musician,   painter,  scul])tor.  critic,  more; 
And    everywhere    the    liroad     and    bounteous 

Earth 
Should    bcai'  a   double    growth   of   those    rare 

souls, 
Poets,  whose  thouglits  enrich  the  blood  of  the 

world.' 

She  ended   liere,  and  beckonM   u-- :  the   rest 
Parted:  and,  glowing  full-faced  welcome,  she 
Began  to  address  us,  and  was  moving  on 
In  gratulation,  till  as  when  a  boat 
Tacks  and  the  .slacken'd  sail  flaps,  all  her  voice 
Faltering    and    fluttering    in    her    throat,    she 

cried, 
'My    brother!'      'Well,    my    sister.'      'O,'    she 

said, 
'What  do  you  here?  and  in  this  tb-ess.^   and 

these? 
Why,  who  are  these?  a  wolf  within  the  fold! 
A   pack  of  wolves !     the  Lord   be  gracious   to 


11 


'\i. 


t 


^%    ■  W 


^Mik 


:l<Pil{  ii/1H>IU>f  Lin  ;^iy, 1^(1        /'  ,/v  "^ 


THE      PRINCESS 


V 


^r 


4  'IV 


\ 


A  plot,  a  plot,  a  plot,  to  niiii  all  1' 

'No   plot,   110    plot,"    he    aiiswcrid.     'WrL'tflicd 

How  saw  you  not  the  inscription  on  the  fi,ate, 
Let  no  man  enteu  in  on   i'aix  oi-   ukatii'''' 
'And  it'  I  had,"  lie  answer'd.  "Who  could  tliink 
Tlie   softer   Adams   of  your   ^\cadenie, 
O  sister.  Sirens  tho*  thev  he,  wei'e   sucji 
As   chanted  on   the  blanching  hones  of  men.'" 
'But  you  will  find  it  othei'wise,'  she  said. 
'You  jest:   ill    jestinj;-  with  I'dge-tnoK  !  my   vow 
Binds  me  to  speak,  .-ind  ()  that   ircn  \\  ill. 
Tliat    axelike   edge   unturnahle,   our   Head, 
The    Princess!"    'Well    then.    Psyche,   take    my 

life. 
And   nail   me  like  a   weasel  on  a  grange 
For  warning;  hui'V  me  heside  the  gate. 
And   cut   this  e]iitapli   .^hove   my   hones: 
Here  I'us  a   hntlhcv   h//   ii   .sisffr  shiiii. 
All  fur  Ihc  coiiniion  f^ooil  of  jcoii/inihiiKl.' 
'I>et   me  die  too."   said   Cyril,  'having  seen 
And    heard    the    Lady    Psyche." 

I   struck    in  : 
'Albeit  so  mask'd.  madam.  I  lovr  the  truth: 
Receive   it,  ami    in   me   In  hold   the   I'riiicc 
Your   countr\nian,   atlianced    years    ago 
To  the  Lailv   Ida.      Here,  for  here  she  was, 
i\iid     thus — \^  hat     other     way     was     left? — I 

c.'Uiie." 
'()  sir,  ()   I'rince,  I  have  no  country,  noni' : 
If   .any,   this;   hut    none.      \\'hate"(  r    I    "as 
Disrooted,   what    I    am    is   gi'afted   lure. 
Affianced,   sir.-'   love-whispers   mav   not    birallie 
Within   tills  M'stal   limit,  and  how    should    I. 
^^'llo  am  not  mine,  say,  live.''    The  thunderholl 
Hangs  silent  :  but   pre|)ai'e.      I  speak,  it  falls." 
'Yet  pau.se,"  I  said:  'for  th.at  iiiscrijit  i(ni  there, 
I   think    no   more   of  <leadly    lurks    therein. 
Than   in   a   clapper  clapping   in   a   gai'th. 
To  .scare  the   fowl    from    fruit  :   if   more   there 

l)c. 
If   more   and   acted   on.   "hat    follows.''  war: 
Your     o"  n      "ork     iiiarr"d ;      for     this     _\our 

Academe, 


Whichever  side  be   victor,   in   the  halloo 
\\'ill  topple  to  the  trumpet  down,  and  jiass 
\\'itli  all   fair  tlu'CH'ies  only  made  to  gild 
A  storinless  summer."     'Let  the  Princess  judge 
Of  that,'  she  said:  'farewell,  sir — and  to  you. 

I  shudder  at   the  sequel,  hut   I   go.' 

'Ari'  you   that  Lady   PsvcIh."  I  rejoin"d. 
'The  fifth   in   line   from   that  old  Llorian, 
\'et   hangs  his   jiortrait   in   mv   father's  hall — 
The  gaunt  old  haron   "itii  his  beetle  brow 
Sun-shaded    in   the  heat   of  dusty   tigllts — 
.Vs  he  bestrode  mv  grandsire.  "hen  he   fell. 
And  all   else  fled.''  wv  point    to  it,  and  we  say. 
The   loval   wai'iiith   of   l''Ioriaii   is   not   cold. 
But  br.anclies  current  vet  in  kindred  veins." 
'Are   vou  that   Psyche."  Flori.an  added:  'she 
With   whom    I   sang  about   the   morning  hills. 
Flung  ball,  flew  kite,  and  raced  the  purple  fly, 
And  sn.ircd  the  sipiii-rel  of  the  glen.''  arc  you 
That    Psyche,    wont    to    bind    my    throbbing 

lirow. 
To    >mo(!th     my     jiillow,     mix     the     foaming 

draught 
Of   fever,   tell  me   pleasant   tales,  and   read 
My  sickness  down  to  ha|ip\    dreams.^  are   vou 
That    brother-sistrr   Psvche,    both    in    one.'' 
You   "ere  that    Ps\-clic.  but   what  are 

you  no".'" 
'You  are  that  Psyche."  Cvril  said,  'for  "bom 
I    "(luld   111     lli.-it    foiever   "liicli    I    seem. 
^Voiiian.    if    I    might    sit    lusidr    your    feet, 
And   glean   your  scatter"d  sapience.' 

'Pheii   once  more, 
'Are    vou    that    Ladv    Ps\clie."    I    began, 
'Tliat   on   her  biid.-il   iiiorii   betore  she  ))ast 
From   .'ill    I'.er   old   companions,   when   tlu'   king 
Kiss"d    her    pale   cheek,   declared   tuat   ancient 

ties 
Would  still  ])v  di.ir  bivoiid  the  southern  hills; 
Tli.il    "rre  there  am    of  our  peopli    there 
111    ".lilt    or    |)i  I'll,   there    "as  one   to   hear 
And   lid])   Hum?  look  I   for  such  ari'  these  :'nd 

T.' 


A    M  E  D  LEY 


'Are    you    that    Psyclie,'    Florian    a.sk\l,    'to 

wlioiii, 
In  geiitkr  ilavs,  your  arrow -wouiukd  fawn 
Came  flying  while  you  sat  beside  the  well? 
The  creature  laid  his  muzzle  on  your  laj) 
And  sohh'tl,  and  you  sobb'd  witli  it,  and  the 

blood 
Was  s])rinkle(l  on  voiir  kirtle,  and  you  wept. 
Tliat  was  fawn's  blood,  not  brother's,  yet  you 

wept. 
O,  by  the  bright  head  of  my  little  niece. 
You    were    that   Psyche,    and    wiiat   are    you 

now .?' 
'You  were  that  Psyche,'  Cyril  said  again, 
'The  mother  of  the  sweetest  little  maid 
That  eycr  crow'd  for  kisses.' 

'Out  up(in  it  !' 
She  answer'd,  'peace!  and  why   should   I   nut 

play 
Tlie   Spartan    jMother   with   emotion,   be 
The  Lucius  Junius  Brutus  of  my   kind.^ 
Him  you  call  great ;  he  for  the  common  weal. 
The  fading  politics  of  mortal  Rome, 
As  I  miglit  slay  tliis  child,  if  good 

need  were, 
Slew  both  his  son.s  ;  and  I,  shall  I,  on  whom 
Tiie  secular  emancipation  turns 
Of  lialf  this  world,  be  swened  from  right  to 

saye 
A  prince,  a  brother.''  a  little  will  I  yiehl. 
Best  so,  perchance,  fur  us,  and  well  for  you. 
O,  hard  when  love  and  duty  clash!  I  fear 
ily    conscience   will    not    count    me    fleckless; 

yet— 
Hear  my   conditions:   promise — otherwise 
You  perish — as  you  came,  to  .slip  away 
To-daj',  to-morrow,  soon.     It  siiall  be  said. 
These  women  were  too  barbarous,  would   not 

learn ; 
The}'     fled,     who     might     have     shamed     us. 

Promise,  all.' 

What  could  we  else,  we  promised  each ;  and 
she, 


Like   some   wild    creature   newly-caged,   com- 
menced 
A  to-and-fro,  so  pacing  till  she  paused 
By  Florian  ;  holding  out  her  lily  arms 
Took    both    hi.s    hands,    and    smiling    faintly 

said : 
'I  knew  you  at  the  first ;  tlio'  you  have  grown 
You  scarce  have  alter'd.     I  am  sad  and  glad 
To  see  you,  Florian.     /  give  thee  to  death. 
My  brother!  it  was  duty  spoke,  not  I. 
My  needful  seeming  harslniess,  pardon  it. 
Our  mother,  is  she  well.'" 

Witii  that  she  kiss'd 
His  forehead,  then,  a  moment  after,  clung 
About  him,  and  betwixt  then,  blossom'd  up 
From  out  a  connnon  vein  of  memoiv 
Sweet    hoasehold    talk,    and    phrases    of    the 

heartii, 
And  far  allusion,  till  the  gracious  dews 
Began  to  glisten  and  to  fall ;  and  wliile 
They  stood,  so  rapt,  we  gazing,  came  a  voice, 
'I     brought     a     message     here     from     Lady 

Blanche.' 
Back  started  she,  and  turning  round  we  saw 
The  Lady  Blanche's  daughter  where  .she  stood, 
]\Ielissa,  with  her  hand  upon  the  lock, 
A  rosy  blonde,  and  in  a  college  gown. 
That  clad  her  like  an  April  daff'odilly — 
Her  mother's  color — with   her  lips  apart. 
And  all  her  thought.s  as  fair  within  her  eyes, 
As  bottom  agates  seen  to  wave  and  float 
In  crystal  currents  of  clear  morning  seas. 

So   stood   that    same    fair   creature   at    the 

door. 
Tlien  Lady  Psyche,  'Ah — ]Melissa — you  ! 
You  iieard  us.'''  and  Melissa,  'O,  pardon  me! 
I  heard,  I  could  not  help  it,  did  not  wish ; 
But,  dearest  lady,  praj-  30U  fear  me  not, 
Nor  think  I  bear  that  heart  within  my  breast, 
To  give  three  gallant  gentlemen  to  death.' 
'I  tmst  you,'  said  the  other,  'for  we  two 
Were    alwav's    friends,    none   closer,   elm    and 

vine ; 


THE      PRINCESS 


But  yet  your  nidtlirr's   jealous  tenij)rraim'nt — 
Let    not    vour    jirudence,    ik'arest,    drowse,    or 

prove 
Tlie  Danaid  of  a  leaky  vase,  for  fear 
Tin's  whole   foundation  ruin,  and   I   lose 
Mv   lionor,   these  their  lives.'      'Ah,   fear  nie 

not,' 
Replied   JNIelissa  :  'no — I   woidd  not   tell. 
No,    not    for   all   Aspasia's   cleverness, 
No,    not    to    an.swcr,    madam,    all    those   hard 

things 
That  Sheha  came  to  ask  of  Solomon.' 
'Be  it  so,'  the  other,  'tliat  we  still  may  lead 
The  new  light  up,  and  culminate  in  jicace. 
For  Solomon  may  come  to  SJieha  yet.' 
Said   Cyril,   ']\Iadani.   he   the   wisest   man 
Feasted  the  woman  wisest  then,  in  halls 
Of  Lehanonian   cedar;   nor   siiould   you — 
-^       Tho",   madam,   ijou    should   answer,   wc  would 

ask- 
Less  welcome  find  among  us,  if  you  came 
Among  us,  deI)tors  foi-  our  lives  to  you. 
Myself    for    something   more.'      He    said    not 

what. 
But    'Thanks,'    she    answer'd,    'go ;    we    have 

heen  too  long 
Together;  keep  your  hoods  about  the  face; 
They  do  so  tliat  affect  abstraction  liere. 
Sjieak  little;  mix  not  with  the  rest;  and  iiold 
Your  promise.     All,  I  trust,  may  yet  be  well.' 

We  turn'd  to  go,  Init  Cyril  took  the  cliild. 
And    held    lier    round    the    knees    against    his 

waist, 
And  hlew  the  swollen  cheek  of  a  trumj)eter, 
^^'hiIl'   Psyche  watch'd  tiiem,  .smiling,  and  the 

cliihl 
I'usliM    liir    flat    hand    against    his    face    and 

laugli'd  ; 
And   thus  our  conference  closed. 

i\iici    then    we   strolled 
For   half   the   day    thro'    stately    theatres 
Bench'd    crescent-wise.       In    eacii    we    sat,    we 

heard 


Tile  grave  ])rofessor.     On  the  lecture  slate 

The  circle  i-oimded  under  female  hands 

With  flawless  demonstration:  follow'd  then 

A  classic  lecture,  ricli  in  sentiment, 

With  scraps  of  thiuiderous  epic  lilted  out 

By  \  iolet-hoodcd  Doctors,  elegies 

And  (juoted  otles,  and  jewels  five-words-long 

That   on   the  stretch'd   forefinger  of  all  Time 

S])arkle  forever.     Then  wc  dipt  in  all 

That   treats   of   whatsoever   is,   the  state. 

The  total  chronicles  of  man,  the  mind, 

l"he  morals,  something  of  the  frame,  the  rock, 

Tiie    star,    the    bird,    the    fish,    the    shell,    the 

flower, 
Flectric,  ciiemic  laws,   and  all  the  rest. 
And  wiiatsocver  can  be  taught  and  known; 
"^J'ill  like  tliive  horses  that  have  broken  fence, 
Antl    glutted    all    night    long    breast-decj)    in 

corn. 
We    issuetl    gorged    with    knowledge,    and    I 

spoke : 
'Why.  sirs,  they  do  all  this  as  well  as  we.' 
'They  hunt  old  trails,'  said  Cyril,  'very  -veil; 
But  when  did  woman  ever  yet  invent  .'•' 
'Ll^ncracious !'    answer'd    Florian ;    'have    vou 

learnt 
No    more    from    Psyche's    lecture,    you    that 

talk'd 
The  trasji  th;d  made  me  sick,  and  almost  sail.''' 
'().  trash.'  he  said,  'but  with  a  kernel  in  it! 
Should    I    not    call    her    wise    who    made    me 

wise? 
And    learnt.'      I    learnt    more    from    her   in    a 

flash 
Than  if  mv  lirain]ian  were  an  eni]ity  hull. 
And   every   ]\Iuse   tumbled   a   science   in. 
A  thousand  hearts  lie  fallow  in  these  halls, 
And  roiuid  these  halls  a  thousand  baby  loves 
Fly   twanging  headli'ss   ;irro\\s   at    the   hearts, 
AVhence      follows      many      a      vacant      pang; 

bul   (). 
Wiili  me,  sii'.  enlerM  ill  the  bigger  boy. 
The  head  of  all   lie  golden-shafted  firm. 
The  loni'-hiiiliM  lad  that  hail  a  I'svche  too; 


A    MED  LEY 


He  cleft  me  tliro'  tlie  stomaclier.     Aiul  now 
Wliat  think  you  of  it,  Florian?  do  I  chase 
Tiie  substance  or  tlie  sliadou  ?  will  it  hold? 
I  have  no  sorcerer's  malison  on  nie, 
No  ghostly  hauntings  like  iiis  Highness.      I 
Flatter  myself  that  always  everywhere 
I  know  the  substance  when  I  sec  it.     Well, 
Arc     castles     shadows?      Three     of     them? 

Ls  she 
The  sweet  proprietress  a  shadow?     If  not. 
Shall   those   three   castles   patch   my   tatter'd 

coat? 
For  dear  are  those  three  castles  to  my  wants, 
And  dear  is  .sister  Psyche  to  my  heart. 
And  two  dear  things  are  one  of  douhle  worth ; 
And  much  I  might  have  said,  but  tiiat  my 

zone 
Unmann'd  me.    Then  tlie  Doctors  !   O,  to  hear 
The  Doctors !    O,  to  watch  the  thirsty  plants 
Imbibing !  once  or  twice  I  thought  to  roar, 
To  break  my  chain,  to  shake  my  mane ;  but 

thou, 
Modulate  me,  soul  of  mincing  mimicry ! 
Make  liquid  treble  of  that  bassoon,  my  throat; 
Abase  those  eyes  that  ever  loved  to  meet 
Star-sisters  answering  under  crescent   brows ; 
Abate  the  stride   which   speaks  of  man,   and 

loose 
A  flying  charm  of  blushes  o'er  this  cheek. 
Where  they  like  swallows  coming  out  of  time 
Will  wonder  why  they  came.    But   hark  the 

bell 
For  dinner,  let  us  go!' 

And  in  we  streani'd 
Among  the  columns,  pacing  staid  and  still 
By  twos  and  threes,  till  all  from  end  to  end 
With  beauties  every  shade  of  brown  and  fair 
In  colors  gayer  than  the  morning  mist. 
The  long  hall  glitter'd  like  a  bed  of  flowers. 
How  might  a  man  not  wander  from  his  wits 
Pierced  thro'  with  eyes,  but  that  I  kept  mine 

own 
Intent  on  her,  who  rapt  in  glorious  dreams, 
The  second-sight  of  some  Astraean  age, 


Sat    compass'd    with    professors;    they,    the 

while, 
Discuss'd    a    doubt    and    tost    it    to    and    fro. 
A.  clamor  thicken'd,  inixt  with  inmost  terms 
Of  art  and  science :  Lady  Blanche  alone 
Of  faded  form  and  haughtiest  lineaments, 
With  all  her  autumn  tres.ses  falsely  brown. 
Shot  sidelong  daggers  at  us,  a  tiger-cat 
In  act  to   spring. 

At  last  a  solemn   grace 
Concluded,  and  we  sought  the  gardens.  There 
One  walk'd  reciting  by  herself,  and  one 
In  this  hand  held  a  volume  as  to  read. 
And    smoothed    a   petted   peacock    tlown   with 

that. 
Some  to  a  low  song  oar'd  a  shallop  by. 
Or  under  arches  of  the   marble  bridge 
Hung,  shadow'd  from  the  heat ;  some  hid  and 

sought 
In  the  orange  thickets;  others  tost  a  ijall 
Above  the  fountain- jets,  and  back  again 
With   laughter;   others   lay   about   the  lawns, 
Of  the  older  sort,  and   nuu'mur'd   that   their 

:\Iay 
Was  passing — what  was  learning  unto  them? 
They    wish'd    to    marry ;    they    could    rule    a 

house ; 
Men  hated  learned  women.    But  we  three 
Sat   muffled   like  the   Fates ;  and  often   came 
Melissa  hitting  all  we  saw  with  shafts 
Of  gentle  satire,  kin  to  charity, 
That    hann'd    not.      Then    day    droopt ;    the 

chapel  bells 
Call'd  us ;  we  left  the  walks ;  we  niixt   with 

those  -..    -■. 

Six  hundred  maidens  clad  in  purest  white. 
Before  two  streams  of  light  from  wall  to  wall. 
While  the  great  organ  almost  burst  his  pipes. 
Groaning   for   power,   and   rolling   thro'   the 

court 
A   long  melodious  thunder  to  the  sound 
Of  solemn  psalms  and  silver  litanies. 
The  work  of  Ida,  to  call  down   from  heaven 
A  blessing  on  her  labors   for  the  world. 


"  "--WVU 


\ 


X 


^ — _  ri'iU'j'vTlrifcuiiiryin^frY' 


Mi' 


SONG 


Sweet  ar.d  low,  sweet  and  low, 
Wind  of  the  western  sea 


SwcL't  ami  low,  sweet  and  low. 

Wind  of  tlie  western  sea, 
Low,  low,  hreatlie  and  blow, 

Wind  of  the  western  sea ! 
Over  the  rolling  waters  go, 
Come  from  the  dying  moon,  and  blow, 

Blow  him  again  to  me; 
While    my    little    one,    while    my    pretty    one 
sleeps. 

Sleep  and  rest,  sleep  and  rest. 

Father  will  come  to  thee  soon  ; 
Rest,  rest,  on  mother's  breast, 

Father  will  come  to  thee  soon ; 
Father  will  come  to  his  babe  in  the  nest, 
Silver  sails  all  out  of  the  west 

Under  the  silver  moon  ; 
Sleep,  my  little  one,  sleep,    my    pretty    one, 
sleep. 


^5,,„,Kf(W,^U-)i  ^"rii-h,  i' 


P  A  RT       T  H  REE 


C:-^ 


-\ 


^m  WMr-'i:  I  w\  M§  I  tlf^k^^.  ^Pa*^.^  i^-y^^^^^  .^^ 


''-i'S'-^  My^. 


-<'4 


.-!;..a«f(,'C:i''''/.'';L,iH£i\  1 ,11 

i 


'M 


•*^W, 


P  A  RT      T  H  REE 


Morn  in  the  white  wake  of  the  morning  star 
Came  furrowing  all  the  orient  into  gold. 
We  rase,  and  each  by  other  drest  with  care 
Descended  to  the  court  that  lay  three  parts 
In  shadow,  but  the  ]\Iuses'  heads  were  touch'd 
Above  the  darkness  from  tlieir  native  East. 

There  while  we  stood  beside  the  fount,  and 

watch'd 
Or  sccm'd  to  watch  the  dancing  bubble,  ap- 

proach'd 
Melissa,  tinged  with  wan  from  lack  of  sleep. 
Or  gi'icf,  and  glowing  round  her  dewy  eyes 
The  circled  Iris  of  a  night  of  tears ; 
And  'Fly,'   she  cried,   'O   fly,   while   yet   you 

may ! 
M}'  mother  knows.'      And  when  I   ask"d  her 

'how,' 
'My  fault,'  she  wept,  'my  fault!  and  yet  not 

mine ; 


Yet  mine  in  part.     O.  hear  me,  pardon  nie ! 
^ly  mother,  't  is  her  wont  from  night  to  night 
To  rail  at  Lady  Psyche  and  her  side. 
She  says  the  Princess  should  have  been  the 

Head, 
Herself  and  Lady  Psyche  the  two  arms, 
And  so  it  was  agreed  when  first  they  came; 
But  Lady  Psyche  was  the  right  hand  now, 
And  she  the  left,  or  not  or  seldom  used ; 
Hers  more  than  half  the  students,  all  the  love. 
And  so  last  night  she  fell  to  canvass  }'ou. 
Her  countrywomen !  she  did  not  envj'  her. 
"Who  ever  saw  such  wild  barbarians? 
Girls? — more  like  men!"  and  at  these  words 

the  .snake, 
]\Iy  secret,  seem'd  to  stir  within  my  breast : 
And  O,  sirs,  could   I  help  it,  but  my  cheek 
Began  to  bum  and  burn,  and  her  Ij'nx  eye 
To  fix  and  make  me  hotter,  til]  she  laugh'd: 
"O  marvt'llouslv  modest  maiden,  vou  ! 


THE      PRINCESS 


Men!  girls,  like  men!   why,  if  they  had  been 

men 
You  need  not  set  your  thoughts  in  rulirlc  tiius 
For    wholesale    conniicnt."         Pardon.     I     am 

shamed 
That  I  must  needs  repeat  for  my  excuse 
What    looks    so    little    graceful :    "men" — for 

still 
]\Iy  mother  went  revolving  nn  the  word — 
"And   so  they   are, — very  like  men  indeed — 
And  with  that  woman  closeted  for  liours  I" 
Then  came  these  dreadful  words  out  one  by 

one. 


'W 


:iy 


■  tliese 


I    ,' 


Idi 


sluKUler  I 


"and  you  know  it :" 
"O,  ask  me  nothing,"  I  said.     "And  she  knows 

too. 
And  she  conceals  it."  So  my  mother  elutch'd 
The  truth  at  once,  but  w  ith  no  word  from  me ; 
And  now  thus  early  risen  she  goes  to  inform 
The  Princess.  I.ady  Psyche  will  be  cruslfd; 
But  you  may  yet  be  saved,  and  therefore  fly; 
But  heal  me  with  your  ])ardon  ere  you  go.' 

'What  pardon,  sweet  Melissa,  for  a  blush  .^^ 
Sa;<l  Cyril;  'Pale  one,  blush  again;  than  wear 
Those  lilies,  better  blush  our  lives  away. 
Yet    let    us    breathe    for    one    hour    more    in 

heaven,' 
He  added,  'lest  some  classic  angel  speak 
In  scorn  of  us,  ''They  mounted,  Ganymedes, 
To  tumble,  ^'ulcans,  on  the  second  morn." 
But  I  will  melt  this  marble  into  wax 
To  yield  us  farther  furlough;'  and  he  went. 

Melissa     shook     her     douiitful     curls,     and 

thought 
He  scarce   would   prosper.      'Tell  us,'   Plorian 

ask'd, 
'How    grew   this    feud   betwixt    the    riglit    and 

left.' 
'O.  long  ago,'  she  said,  'betwixt  these  two 
Division   smoulders  hidden  ;  't    is  my  mother, 
Too  jealous,  often  fretful  as  the  wind 


Pent  in  a  crevice :  much  I  bear  with  her. 
I  never  knew  my  father,  but  she  savs — 
God  help  her ! — she  was  wedded  to  a  fool ; 
And  still  she  rail'd  against  the  state  of  things. 
She  had  the  care  of  Lady  Ida's  vouth. 
And  from  the  (^)ueen's  decease  she  brought  her 

up. 
But  when  your  sister  came  she  won  the  heart 
Of  Ida;   they  were  still  together,  grew — 
For  so  they  said  themselves — inosculated ; 
Consonant  chords  that  shiver  to  one  note ; 
One  mind  in  all  things.     Yet  my  mother  still 
Affirms  your  Psyche  thieved  her  theories. 
And  angled  with  them  for  her  pu])irs  love; 
She  calls  her  plagiarist,  I  know  not  what. 
But  I  must  go ;  I  dare  not  tarry,'  and  light, 
As  flies  the  .shadow  of  a  bird,  she  fled. 

Then  miirmur'd  Florian,  sazinjr  after  her: 
'.\n   oj)en-hearted  maiden,  true  and  pure. 
If  I  could  love,  why  this  were  she.  How  pretty 
Her   blushing  was,  and  how  she  blush'd 

again. 
As  if  to  close  with  Cyril's  random  wish! 
Not   like   your  Princess   cramm'd   with   erring 

])i'i(le. 
Nor  like  jioor  Psvclie  whom  she  drags  in  tow.' 

'The    crane,'    I    said,    'mav    chatter    of   the 

crane. 
The  dove  may  nuirnuu-  of  the  dove,  but  I 
An  eagle  clang  an  eagle  to  the  sphere. 
^ly  princess,  O  my  princess !  true  she  errs. 
But  in  her  own  grand  way;  being  herself 
Three  times  more   noble  than   thi'ee  score  of 

men. 
She  sees  herself  in  everv  woman  else, 
And  so  she  wears  her  error  like  a  crown 
To  blind  the  truth  and  nie.     For  her,  and  her, 
Ilebes  are  thev  to  hand  ambrosia,  mix 
The     nectar;     but — ah,     she — whene'er     she 

moves 
The  Saniian  Here  rises,  and  she  speaks 
A  Memmon  smitten  with  the  morning  sun.' 


A    MED  LEY 


So  saj'ing  from   tlic  court   we  pactcl,  ami 
gain'd 
The  terrace  ranged  along  the  northern  front, 
And  leaning  there  on  those  balusters,  high 
Above  the  empurpled  champaign,  drank  the 

gale 
That   l)lii\vn   about  the   foliage  underneath, 
And  sated  with  the  innumerable  rose. 
Beat  balm  upon  our  eyelids.     Hither  came 
Cyril,  and  yawning,  'O  hard  task,'  he  cried : 
'No  fighting  shadows  here.      I   forced  a  way 
Thro'  solid  opposition  crabli'd  and  gnarl'd. 
Better  to  clear  prime  forests,  heave  and  thump 
A  league  of  street  in  summer  solstice  down. 
Than  hammer  at  this  reverend  gentlewoman. 
I  knock'd   and,   bidden,    entcr'd;    found   her 

there 
At  point  to  move,  and  settled  in  her  eyes 
The  green  malignant  light  of  coming  storm. 
Sir,  I  was  courteous,  every  phra.sc  wcll-oil'd. 
As  man's  could  be ;  ^-et  maiden-meek  I  pray'd 
Concealment.     She  demanded  who  we  were. 
And  why  we  came.''      I   fabled  nothing  fair. 
But,  your  example  jjilot,   told  her  all. 
XTp  went  the  hush'd  amaze  of  hand  and  eye. 
But  when  I  dwelt  upon  vour  old  affiance. 
She  answer'd  sharply  that  I  talk'd  astray. 
I  urged  the  fierce  inscription  on  the  gate. 
And   our   three   lives.      True — we   had   limed 

ourselves 
With  open  eyes,  and  wo  must  take  the  chance. 
But  such  extremes,  I  told  her,  well  might  harm 
The  woman's  cause.      "Not  more  than  now," 

she  said, 
"So   puddled   as   it   is   with    favoritism." 
I  tried  the  mother's  heart.     Shame  might  be- 
fall 
Melissa,  knowing,  saj'ing  not  she  knew  ; 
Her  answer  was,  "Leave  me  to  deal  with  that." 
I  spoke  of  war  to  come  and  many  deaths. 
And  she  replied,  her  duty  was  to  speak. 
And  duty  duty,  clear  of  consequences. 
I  grew  discouraged,  .sir:  but  since  I  knew 
No  rock  so  hard  but  that  a  little  wave 


^lay  beat  admission  in  a  thousiuid  years, 
I   recommenced :  "Decide  not   ere  you  pause. 
I  find  you  here  but   in   the  second  place, 
Some  say  the  third — the  authentic   foundress 

you. 
I  offer  boldly ;  we  will  seat  you  highest. 
Wink  at  our  advent;  helj)  my  jirince  to  gain 
His  rightful  bride,  and  liei-e  I  ])ruinise  you 
Some    palace    in    our    land,    where    you    shall 

reign 
The  head  and  heart  of  all  our  fair  she-world. 
And  your  great  name  fiow  on  with  broadening 

time 
For  ever."     Well,  she  balanced  this  a  little, 
And  told  me  she  would  answer  us  to-day, 
Meantime   be   mute;   thus   much,   nor   more   I 

gain'd.' 

He  ceasing,  came  a  message  from  the  Head. 
'That  afternoon  the  Princess  rode  to  take 
The   dip   of  certain   strata   to   the   north. 
Would   we  go   with   her.''  we  should   find  the 

land 
Worth  seeing,  and  the  river  made  a  fall 
Out  yonder:'  then  she  pointed  on  to  where 
A  double   hill   ran   up   his   furrowy   forks 
Beyond  the  thick-leaved  platans  of  the  vale. 

Agreed   to,  this,   the  day  fled   on   thro'   all 
Its  range  of  duties  to  the  appointed  hour. 
Then   summon'd  to  the   jiorcli   we  went.      She 

stood 
Among  her  maidens,  higher  by  the  head. 
Her  back  again.st  a  pillar,  her  foot  on  one 
Of  those  tame  leopards.     Kitten-like  he  roU'd 
And  ])aw'd  about  her  sandal.     I  drew  near; 
I   gazed.      On   a   sudden   my    strange   seizure 

came 
Upon  me,  the  weird  vision  of  our  house. 
The  Princess  Ida  seem'd  a  hollow  show. 
Her  gav-furr'd  cats  a  painted  fantasy, 
Her  college   and  her  maidens   empty  masks, 
And  I  myself  the  shadow  of  a  dream. 
For  all  thing's  were  and  were  not.    Yet  I  felt 


1)       ?^       I 


/^V^  ' 


THE      P  RIN  CESS 


fc./?^<; 


4 


My   licart   beat   thick  with   passiuii   ami   witii 

awe ; 
Then  from  my  breast  the  invohintai'y  sigh 
Brake,  as  she  smote  me  with  the  hght  of  eyes 
Tiiat  lent  my  knee  desire  to  kneel,  and  sliook 
^Vy  pulses,  till  to  horse  we  got,  and  so 
Went  forth  in  long  retinue  following  np 
Tiie  river  as  it  narrow'd  to  tlie  hills. 

I  rode  beside  her  and  to  me  she  said : 
'0'  friend,  we  trust  that  you  estcem'd  us  not 
Too  harsh  to  your  comj)anion  yestermorn; 
Unwillingly    we    sjiakc.'      "No — not    to    lier,' 
I  answer'd,  *l)ut  to  one  of  whom  we  spake 
Yoiu-  Highness  miglit   have  seem'd  the  thing 

you  say." 
'Again?'    she   cried,   'are  you   ambassadresses 
From  him  to  me?  we  give  you,  being  strange, 
A  license ;  speak,  and  let  the  topic  die.' 

I  stammer'd  that  I  knew  him — could  have 

wish'd— 
'Our  king  expects — was  there  no  precontract  ? 
There  is  no  truer-hearted — ah,  you  seem 
All   he  prefigured,  and   he  could   not  see 
The  bird  of  jiassage  iiying  south  but  long'd 
To  follow.     Surel_y,  if  your  Highness  keep 
Your   purport,   you    will    shock    him    even    to 

death. 
Or   baser   courses,   children   of  <lespair.' 

"Poor  boy,'  she  said,  "can  he  not  read — no 

books  ? 
Quoit,   tennis,   ball — no   games?    nnr   deals    in 

that 
Wliich  men  delight   in,  martial  exercise? 
To  nurse  a   blind   ideal   like   a   girl; 
IVIethinks  he  seems  no  heller  lliaii  a  girl; 
As   girls  wei'e  once,   as   we  oiu'self  have  lieen. 
We    had    our   dreams;    ]>erha[)s    he   mixt   with 

them. 
We  touch  on  our  cU'ad  self,  nor  shun  to  do  it. 
Being    other — since    we    learnt    our    meaning 

here. 


To  lift  the  woman's  fallen  divinitv 
Upon  an  even  pedestal  witii  man.' 

She  paused,  and  adiled  with  a  haughtier 
smile, 
'And  as  to  precontracts,  we  move,  my  friend, 
At  no  man's  beck,  but  know  ourself  and  thee, 
O  \'ashti,  noble  A'ashti!  Summon'el  out 
She  kept  her  state,  and  left  tiie  drunken  king 
To  brawl  at  Shushan  underneath  the  palms.' 

'Alas,  your  Highness  breathes   full   East,' 

I  said, 
'On   that   which   leans   to  you !      I   know  the 

Prince, 
1  prize  his  truth.     And  tlien  how  vast  a  work 
To  assail  this  gray  preeminence  of  man ! 
You  gi-ant  me  license;  might  I  use  it?  think; 
Eli'e  half  be  done  perchance  3'our  life  may  fail ; 
Then  conies  tlie  feebler  heiress  of  your  plan, 
And  takes  anil  ruins  all ;  and  thus  vour  pains 
May  only  make  that  footprint  upon  sand 
Which  old-recurring  waves  of  prejudice 
Resmooth   to   nothing,      flight  I   dread  that 

you, 
Witli  only   I'anie  for  spouse  and  your  great 

deeds 
Fcr  issue,  yet   may  live  in   vain,  and  miss 
Meanwhile  what  every  woman  counts  her  due. 
Love,   children,    lia])piness?' 

And  she  exclaim'd, 
"Peace,    you    young   savage   of   the   Northern 

wild  ! 
Wlial  !    tlio"    \i\w    I'l'ince's    love    were    like    a 

god's. 
Have  we  not  made  ourself  the  sacrifice? 
You  are  bold  indeed  ;  wc  arc  not  talk'd  to  thus. 
Yet  will  we  say  for  childi-en,  woidd  they  grew 
Like    field-tlowers    everywhere!    we    like    them 

wril  : 
But   children  die;  and  let  mi'  tell  you,  girl, 
Howe'tr  you  bablile,  great  deeds  cainiot  die; 
They  with  the  sun  and  moon  renew   their  light 
For  e\ei\  ble-sinii'  Ihose  llial   look  on  them. 


A    MEDLEY 


Cliildren — that  men  may  pluck  tlieiii  from  our 

Iicarts, 
Kill  us  witli  pity,  break  us  with  ourselves — 
O — ciiilth'en — there  is  nothing  U2)on  earth 
]More  miserable  than  she  that  has  a  son 
And  sees   him  err.     Nor  would  we  work   for 

fame ; 
Tho'  .she  ])erhaps  might  reajj  the  ajjplause  of 

Great, 
Wlio   learns   the   one  poit   sto   wlience   after- 
hands 
May   move   the    world,   tho'   she   herself   effect 
But  little;   wherefore  up  and   act,  nor  shrink 
For  fear  our  solid  aim  \)v  dissipated 
By  frail  successors.     Would,  indeed,  we  had 

been. 
In  lieu  of  many  mortal  flies,  a  race 
Of  giants  living  each  a  thousand  years, 
That   we   might  .see   our  own    work   out,  and 

watch 
The  sandy  footprint   harden  into  stone.' 

I  answer'd  nothing,  doubtful  in  myself 
If  that  strange  poct-j)rincess  with  her  grand 
Imaginations  might  at  all  be  won. 
And  she  broke  out  interpreting  my  thoughts : 

'No   doubt   we  seem   a   kind  of  monster  to 

you ; 
We  are  used  to  that ;  for  women,  up 

till  this 
Cramp'd     under     worse    tlian     South-sea-isle 

taboo. 
Dwarfs   of  the  gyna'ceum,   fail  so  far 
In  liigh  desire,  they  know  not,  cannot  guess 
How  nuicli  their  welfare  is  a  passion  to  us. 
If  we  could  give  them  surer,  quicker  proof — 
O,   if  our  end  were   less   achievable 
By  slow  approaches  than  by  single  act 
Of  immolation,  any  phase  of  death. 
We   were   as    prompt   to    sirring   against   the 

I)ikcs, 
Or  down  the  fiery  gulf  as  talk  of  it. 
To  compass  our  dear  sisters'  liberties.' 


She  bow'd  as  if  to  veil  a  noble  tear ; 
.Vnd  ujj  we  came  to  where  the  river  sloped 
To   plunge   in   cataract,   shattering  on   black 

blocks 
A    breadth    of   thunder.      O'er    it    shook    the 

woods. 
And  (lanced  the  color,  and,  below,  stuck  out 
The  bones  of  some  vast  bulk  that   lived  and 

roar'd 
Before  man  was.     She  gazed  awhile  and  said, 
'As  these  rude  bones  to  us,  are  we  to  her 
That   will   be.'      'Dare  we  dream  of  that,'   I 

ask'd, 
'^Vhlch  wrought  us,  as  the  workman  and  his 

«ork. 
That    practice    betters.'''      'How,'    she    cried, 

'you  love 
The  metaphysics!  read  and  earn  our  prize, 
A  golden  brooch.     Beneath  an  emerald  plane 
Sits  Diotima,  teaching  him  that  died 
Of  hemlock — our  device,  wrought  to  the  life — 
She  rapt  upon  her  subject,  lie  on  her; 
For   there    are    schools    for   all.'      'And    yet,' 

I  said. 
'Methinks  I  have  not   found  anKjng  them  all 
One  anatomic'     'Nay,  we  thought  of  that,' 
She  answer'd,  'but  it  jjleased  us  not ;  in  truth 
We   shudder  but   to   dream   our  maids   should 

ape 
Those  monstrous  males  that  carve  the  living 

hound. 
And    cram    him    with    the    fragments    of    the 

grave. 
Or  in  the  dark  dissolving  human  heart, 
And  holy  secrets  of  this  microcosm. 
Dabbling    a    shameless    hand    with    shameful 

.jest, 
Encarnalize  their  sj)irits.     Yet  we  know 
Knowledge    is    knowledge,    and    this    matter 

hangs. 
Howbeit  ourself.  foreseeing  casualty. 
Nor    willing    men    should    come    among     us, 

learnt. 
For  many  wear}-  moons  before  we  came, 


>^    ':^-; 


">i*-^ 


s 


THE      PRINCESS 


/«.* 


y/ ' 


M: 


This  craft  of  healing.      Were  you  sick,  our- 

sclf 
Would  teiul  upon  you.  To  your  question  now, 
Which  touches  on  the  workman  and  his  work. 
Let  tiiere  be  light  and  there  was  light;  't  is  so. 
For  was,  and  is,  and  will  bo,  are  but  is, 
And  all  creation  i.s  one  act  at  once, 
Thr  hiitli  of  light;  but   we  that  are  not  all. 
As   jjarts,   can  see  but   jjarts,   now   this,   now 

that, 
And  live,  perforce,  from  thought  to  thought, 

and  make 
One  act  a  phantom  of  succession.     Thus 
Our    weakness    somehow    shapes    the    shadow, 

Time ; 
Bui   in  the  shadow  will  we  work,  and  mould 
The  woman  to  the  fuller  day.' 

She  spake 
With  kindled  eyes:  we  rode  a  league  beyond, 
And,  o'er  a  bridge  of  pinewood  cros.sing,  came 
On    flowery    levels    underneath    the    craec, 
Full  of  all  beauty.     'O.  how  sweet,'  I  said, — 
For  I  was  half-oblivious  of  my  mask, — 
'To  linger  here  with  one  that  loved  us  !'  'Yea,' 
She  answer'<l,  'or  with  fair  philosophies 
That  lift  the  fancy:  for  indeed  these  fields 
Are  lovely,  lovelier  not  the  Elysian  launs. 
Whore  paced  the  demigods  of  old,   and  saw 


The    soft    white    vapor    streak    the    crowned 

towers 
Built  to  the  Sun.'  Then,  turning  to  her  maids, 
'Pitcii  our  pavilion  here  upon  the  sward; 
Lay  out  the  viands.'    At  the  word,  they  raised 
A   tent  of  satin,  elaborately  wrought 
With  fair  Coriiuia's  triumph  ;  hero  she  stood, 
Engirt  with  many  a  florid  maiden-cheek, 
Tlie     woman  -  conqueror ;     woman  -  conquer'd 

there 
The   Ijearded   Mct(n'  of  ten-thousand   hymns, 
Antl  all  the  men  mournM  at  his  side.     But  we 
Sot  forth  to  climb ;  then,  climbing,  Cyril  kept 
With    Psyche,   with    Melissa   Florian,   I 
^^'ith  mine  affianceil.     Many  a  little  hand 
Glanced  like  a  touch  of  .^vuisliine  on  the  rocks, 
]\Iany  a  light  foot  shone  like  a  jewel  set 
In  the  dark  crag.      And   then  we  turn'd,  we 

wound 
About   the  cliffs,  the  coj)ses,  out  and  in, 
Planmiei'ing   and    clinking,    chattering    stony 

names 
Of  shale   and  hornblende,  rag  and  trap  and 

tuff. 
Amygdaloid  and  trachyte,  till  the  sun 
Grew  broader  towartl  his  death  and  fell,  and 

all 
Tlio   rosy   heights   came   out   above  tiio  lawns. 


»41.^ 


SONG 


The  splendor  falls  on  castle  walls 
And  snowy  summits  old  in  story 


The  sj)lcndor  falls  on  castle  walls 
And  snowy  summits  old  in  story ; 

Tiic  long  liglit  shakes  across  the  lakes, 
And  the  wild  cataract  leajjs  in  glory. 

Blow,  hugle,  blow,  set  the  wild  echoes  flying, 

Blow,   bugle;   answer,   echoes,   dying,   dying, 
dying. 

0,  hark,  0,  hear!  how  thin  and  clear. 
And   thinner,   clearer,   farther  going! 

O,  sweet  and  far  from  cliff  and  scar 
The  horns  of  Elfland  faintly  blowing! 

Blow,  let  us  hear  the  jiurple  glens  re])lying. 

Blow,   bugle;   answer,   echoes,   dying,   dying, 
dying. 

O  love,  thej'  die  in  yon  rich  sky, 
They  faint  on  hill  or  field  or  river; 

Our  echoes  roll  from  soul  to  soul. 
And  grow  for  ever  and  for  ever. 

Blow,  bugle,  blow,  set  the  wild  echoes  flying. 

And  answer,  echoes,  answer,  d^'ing,  dying, 
dying. 


■.^»w.>n^  lln"!' 


V  I  (•• 


PART       FOUR 


^is7%§ 


v.i  ,e4fi45f i.mr^zV  (,v 


n.W^P'^ 


.A-^ 


1.1*     y    r>AT\.H     .\i?l       \ 


»^- 


ljata<!iiU''tMl!;\k'  fl'lllferV. 


"^^^^ 


r  -.^» 


t  ^^g^--  ^m^  fjw^, 


PART       FOUR 


'There   sinks   the   nebulous   star  we  call  the 

sun, 
If  that  hypothesis  of  theirs  be  sound,' 
Said  Ida ;  'let  us  down  and  rest ;'  and  we 
Down  from  the  lean  and  wrinkled  precipices, 
By  every  coppice-feather'd  chasm  and  cleft, 
Dropt  thro'  the  ambrosial  gloom  to  where  below 
No  bigger  than  a  glowworm  shone  the  tent 
Lamp-lit  from  the  inner.     Once  she  Ican'd  on  me. 
Descending;  once  or  twice  she  lent  her  hand, 
And   blissful   palpitations   in   the  blood 
Stirring  a  sudden  transport  rose  and  fell. 

But  when  we   planted  level  feet,  and  dipt 
Beneath  the  satin  dome  and  enter'd  in, 
Tliere  leaning  deep  in  broider'd  down  we  sank 
Our  elbows;  on  a  tripod  in  the  midst 
A  fragrant  flame  rose,  and  before  us  glow'd 
Fruit,  blo.ssom,  viand,  amber  wine,  and  gold. 

Then  she,  'Let  some  one  sing  to  us ;  light- 
lier  move 


The  minutes  fledged  with  music;'  and  a  maid. 
Of  those  beside  her,  smote  her  harp  and  sang, 

'Tears,  idle  tears,  I  know  not  what  they  mean 
Tears  from  the  depth  of  some  divine  despair 
Rise  in  the  heart,  and  gather  to  the  eyes, 
In  looking  on  the  happy  autumn-fields. 
And  thinking  of  the  days  that  are  no  more. 

'Fresh  as  the  first  beam  glittering  on  a  sail, 
That  brings  our  friends  up  from  the  under- 
world. 
Sad  as  the  last  which  reddens  over  one 
That  sinks  with  all  we  love  below  the  verge; 
So  sad,  so  fresh,  the  days  that  are  no  more. 

'Ah,  sad  and  strange  as  in  dark  summer 

dawns 
The  earliest  pipe  of  half-awakcn'd  birds 
To  dying  ears,  when  unto  dving  eyes 
The    casement    slowly    grows    a    glinnnering 

square ; 
So  sad,  so  strange,  the  days  that  are  no  more. 


THE      PRINCESS 


i4 


'Dear  as  rcineiiiljcr'd  kisses  after  death. 
And  sweet  as  those  by  hopeless  fancy  feign'il 
On  hps  that  are  for  otlicr.s;  tleej)  as  love, 
Deep  as  first  love,  anil  wild  with  all  regret; 
O  Death  in  Life,  the  days  that  ai-e  no  more !' 

She  ended  witli  sueh  passion  that  the  tear 
She  sang  of  shook  and  fell,  an  erring  ])earl 
Lost   in  her  bosom;  Ijiit   with  some  disdain 
Answer'd  the  Princess  :  'If  indeed  then'  haunt 
About  the  iiiculdel'M   lodgi's  of  the  past 
So  sweet  a   voice  and   vague,   fatal  to  men, 
Well   needs   it   we   should   cram   our   ears   with 

wool 
And  so  pace  by.    But  thine  are  fancies  hatcli'd 
In    silken-folded    idleness;    nor   is   it 
Wiser  to   weep    a    true   occasion    lost. 
But  trim  our  sails,  and  let  old  bygones  be, 
While   down    the   streams   that    float   us   each 

and  all 
To   the   issue,   goes,   like    glittering   berg.s   of 

ice. 
Throne  after  throne,  and  molten  on  the  waste 
Becomes   a   cloud ;   for  all   things   serve   their 

time 
Toward  that  great  year  of  equal  mights  and 

rights. 
Nor  would   I  fight   with   ii'on   laws,  in  the  end 
F'ound  golden.     Let   the  j)ast  be  past,  let  be 
Their    cancellM    B:d)els ;    tlio'    the    rough    kex 

break 
The  starr'd  mosaic,  and  the  beard-blown  goat 
Hang  on  the  shaft,  and  the  wild  fig-tree  split 
Their  moilsti'ovis  idols,  care  not   while  we  hear 
A   trinn[)et    in   the   distance    pealing   news 
Of  better,  and  Ilojje,  a  j)oising  eagle,  burns 
Above  the  unrisen  morrow.'     Then  to  me, 
'Know   you    no  .song  of  your  own   land,'   she 

said, 
'Not   such  as  moans   about   the  retrospect, 
But  deals  with  the  other  distance  and 

the  hues 
Of  promise;  not  a  death's-head  at 
the  wine?' 


Then   1   remember'd  one  myself  had  made, 
AVhat    time    I    watch'il    the    swallow    winging 

south 
From  mine  own   land,  part  made  long  since, 

and  part 
Now  while  I  sang,  and  maiden-like  as  far 
i\s    I   could   a])e   their   tix'l)]e   did    I   sing. 

'O,  Swallow,  Swallow,  flying,  flying  south, 
Flv   to  her.  and  fall  upon  her  gilded  eaves, 
And  tell  her.   tell  her,  what   I  tell  to  thee. 

'(),    tell    her.    Swallow,    thou    that    knowest 
each, 
Th;it  bright  and  fierce  and  fickle  is  the 

South, 
And  dark   and  true  and  tender  is  the  North. 

'O  Swallow.  Swallow,  if  I  could  follow,  and 
light 
Upon  her  lattice.  I  would  ])ipe  and  trill, 
And  cheep  and  twitter  twenty  million  loves. 

'O,  were  I  tjiou  that  she  might  take  me  in, 
And  lav  me  on  her  ho.Nom.  and  her  heart 
Would  rock  the  snowy  cradle  till  I  died! 

'\Vhy  lingereth  she  to  clothe  her  heart  with 

love, 
Delaying  as  the   tender  ash  dcla3's 
To    clothe    herself,    when    all    the    woods    are 

green  't 

'O,    tell    her.    Swallow,    that    thy    brood    is 
flown  : 
Sav   to  her.  I  do  but   wanton  in  the  South, 
But  in  the  North  long  since  my  nest  is  made. 

'O,  tell  her.  brief  is  life  but  love  is  long. 
And  brief'  the  sun  of  summer  in  the  Norlh, 
x\nd  brief  the  moon  of  beauty  in  the  Si)uth. 

'O  Swallow,  flying  from  the  golden  woods, 
Flv  to  her.  and  j)ipc  and  woo  her,  and  make 

her   nunc. 
And  tell  her.  I  ell  her.  that  I  follow  thee.' 


A    MED  LEY 


I  ceased,  and  all  the  ladies,  each  at  each, 
Like  the  Ithacensian  suitors  in  old  time, 
Stared  with  great  eyes,  and  laugh'd  with  alien 

hps. 
And  knew  not  what  they  meant ;  for  still  my 

voice 
Rang    false.      But   smiling,    'Not    for   thee,' 

she  said, 
'0  Biilhul,  any  rose  of  Gulistan 
Shall    hurst    her    veil;    marsh-divers,    rather, 

maid, 
Shall  croak  thee  sister,  or  tlie  meadow-crake 
Grate  her  harsh   kindred   in   the   grass — and 

this 
A  mere  love-poem !   O,   for  such,   my   friend. 
We  hold  them   slight ;   they   mind   us  of  the 

time 
When  we  made  bricks  in  Egypt.     Knaves  are 

men. 
That   lute  and  flute   fantastic  tenderness. 
And  dress  the  victim  to  the  offering  up. 
And  2)aint  the  gates  of  Hell  with  Paradise, 
And  play  the  slave  to  gain  the  tyranny. 
Poor  soul !     I  had  a  maid  of  honor  once ; 
She  wept  her  true  ej-es  blind  for  such  a  one, 
A  rogue  of  canzonets   and  serenades. 
I  loved  her.     Peace  be  \\  ith  her.     She  is  dead. 
So  they  blaspheme  the  nmse !     But   great  is 

song 
Used  to  great  ends ;  ourself  have  often  tried 
Valkyrian  hymns,  or  into  rhythm  have  dash'd 
The  passion  of  the  jirophetess ;  for  song 
Is  duer  unto   freedom,   force  and  growth 
Of  spirit,   than   to  junketing   and   love. 
Love  is  it?     Would  this  same  mock-love,  and 

this 
jMock-Hymen  were  laid  up  like  winter  bats, 
Till  all  men  grew  to  rate  us  at  our  worth. 
Not  vassals  to  be  beat,  nor  pretty  babes 
To    be    dandled,    no,    but    living    wills,    and 

sj)hcred 
Whole     ni     ourselves     and     owed     to     none. 

Enough ! 
But  now  to  leaven  play  \\  ith  profit,  you. 


Know  3'ou  no  song,  the  true  growth  of  your 


That    gives    the    manners    of    jour    country- 


She  sjjoke  and  turn'd  licr  sumjituous  head 

with  eyes 
Of  shining  expectation  fixt  on  mine. 
Then   while   I   dragg'd   my   brains   for  such  a 

song, 
Cyril,  with  whom  the  bell-mouth'd  glass  had 

wrought. 
Or  master'd  by  tiie  sense  of  sport,  began 
To  troll   a   careless,   careless  tavern-catch 
Of   iMoll   and   Meg,   antl   strange  experiences 
Unmeet   for  ladies.      Florian   nodded  at  him, 
I    frowning;   Psyche  flusliM   and   wannM   and 

shook  ; 
The  lily-like  Melissa  dropp'd  her  brows. 
'Forbear,'  the  Princess  cried  ;  'Forliear,  sir,'  I ; 
And  lu'ated   thro'   and   thro'   with   wrath  ami 

love, 
I  smote  him  on  the  breast.     He  started  up ; 
There  rose  a  shriek  as  of  a  city  sack'd ; 
Jlelissa     clamor'd,     'Flee     the     death;'     'To 

horse !' 
Said  Ida,  'home !  to  horse !'  and  fled,  as  flies 
A  troop  of  snowy  doves  athwart  the  dusk 
When  some  one  batters  at  the  dovecote  doors, 
Disorderly  the  women.      Alone  I  stood 
With  Florian,  cursing  Cyril,  vext  at  heart 
In  tlie  ])avilion.     There  like  parting  hopes 
I  heard  them  passing  from  me :  hoof  by  hoof. 
And  every  hoof  a  knell  to  my  desires, 
Clang'd    on    the    bridge ;    and    then    another 

shriek, 
'The   Head,   the   Head,   the   Princess.    O   the 

Head  !• 
For  blind  with  rage  she  miss'd  the  plank,  and 

roll'd 
In   the   river.      Out   I   sprang   from    glow   to 

gloom  : 
There  wliirl'd  her  white  robe  like  a  blossoni'd 

branch 


THE      P  RI  N  CESS 


Rapt  to  tlio  hoi'riljle  fall.     A  ^'laiu'e  I  jn'ave, 
No  more,  hut   w  oman-\  r^ti'il  a.s  I  was 
riuiifrcd,   and    tlju   fiooil    dnw:   yut    I   caught 

her ;  tlicn 
Oaring-  one  arm,  and  Ijearing  in  my  left 
Tiie    weiglit    of    all    the    hojjes    of    half    the 

world, 
Strove  to  buffet  to  land  in  vain.     A  tree 
Was  half-disrooted  from  his  place  and 

stoo})'d 
To    drench    his    dark    locks    in    the    iiuriilin';; 

wave 
]\Iid-channel.      Right   on   this    we    drove    and 

caught. 
And  grasping  down  the  houghs   I   gainM   the 

shore. 

There     stood     her     maidcp.s     glimmeringly 

group'd 
111    the   hollow   l)ank.      One   reaching    forward 

drew 
]\Iy  burthen  from  mine  arms  :  thev  cried,  'She 

lives.' 
They  bore  her  hack  into  the  tent:  but  I, 
So  much  a  kind  of  shame  within  me  wrought, 
Not  yet  endured  to  meet  her  opening  eyes, 
Nor  found  my  friends ;  but  pashM  alone  on 

foot— 
For  since  her  horse  was  lost  I  left  her  mine — 
Across  the  woods,  and  less  from  Indian  craft 
Than     Ijeelike     instinct     hiveward,     found     at 

length 
The  garden  portals.     Two  great  statues,  Art 
And  Science,  Caryatids,  lifted  up 
A  weigiit  of  emblem,  and  betwixt  were  valves 
Of  open-work  in  which  the  liunter  rued 
His  rash  intrusion,  manlike,  but  his  brows 
Had  sproutetl,  and  the  branches  thercu])on 
Spread    out    at    top,    and    grimly    spiked    the 

gates. 


And,    tost    on    thoughts    that    changed    from 

hue  to  hue. 
Now  j)oring  on  the  glowwonn,  now  the  .star, 
I  paced  the  terrace,  till  the  Bear  had  whecl'd 
Thro'  a  great  arc  his  seven  slow  suns. 

A  step 
Of  lightest  echo,  then  a  loftier  form 
Than     female,     moving    thro*     the     uncertain 

gloom, 
Disturh'd  me  with  the  doubt  "if  this  were  she,' 
But  it  was  Florian.     'Hist,  O,  hist!'  he  said, 
'They  seek  us ;  out  so  late  is  out  of  rules. 
IMorcovcr,   "Seize   the  strangers"   is  the   cry. 
How  came  you  herc.^'    I  told  liim.    'I,'  said  he, 
'Last   of  the   train,  a  moral   leper,  I, 
To  wlidiii   none  sj)ake,  half-sick  at  heart,  re- 

turn'd. 
Ari-iviiig  all  confuseil  among  the  rest 
With  hooded  brows  I  crept  into  the  hall. 
And,  couch'd  behind  a  Judith,  underneath 
The  head  of  Holofernes  pecp'd  and  saw. 
Girl  after  girl  was  call'd  to  trial;  each 
Disclaini'd   all  knowledge  of  us ;  last  of  all, 
]\Ielissa;  trust  me,  sir,  I  jjitied  her. 
She,  question'd  if  she  knew  us  men,  at  first 
Was  silent ;  closer  prest,  denied  it  not. 
And  then,  demanded  if  her  mother  knew. 
Or  Psyche,  she  affirm'd  not,  or  denied; 
From  whence  the  Royal  mind,   familiar  with 

lier. 
Easily  gather'd  either  guilt.     She  sent 
For  Psyche,  but  she  was  not  there;  she  call'd 
For  Psyche's  child  to  cast  it  from  the  doors; 
She   sent    for   Blanche   to   accuse   her   face   to 

face  ; 
•\nd  1  slij)t  out.      But   whither  will   vou  now.' 
And  where  are  Psyche,  Cyril.''  both  are  fled; 
What,  if  together.''  that  were  not  so  well. 
Would    rather    we    had    ne\er   comi' !    I    dread 
His  Mildness,  and  the  chance,,  of  the  d.-irk.' 


A    little   space   was   left   between   the   horns.  'And    y(t,"    I    said,    'yaw    wrong    him    more 

Thi'o'  which  I  clamiierM  o'er  at   top  with  pain,  than   I 

Droj)t  on  the  sward,  and  up  the  linden  walks.  That  sti'uck  him;  this  is  proper  to  the  clown. 


S^^^V 


A    MED  LEY 


Tlio'    sniock'd,    or    f'urr'd    ;iiid    pur])kil,    still 

the  clown, 
To   liariii    the   thiiiy   that    trusts    him,   and   to 

shame 
That  which  he  sajs    lie    loves.      For    Cyril, 

howc'er 
He  deal  in  frolic,  as  to-night — the  song 
iMight  have  been  worse  and  siiufd  in  grosser 

lips 
Beyond  all  pardon — as  it  is,  I  hold 
These  flashes  on  the  surface  are  not  he. 
He  has  a  solid  base  of  teni])ei-anient  ; 
But  as  the  water-lil}'  starts  and  slides 
Upon  the  level  in  little  puffs  of  wind, 
Tho'  anchor'd  to  the  bottom,  such  is  he.' 

Scarce  had  I  ceased  when  from  a  tamarisk 
near 
Two  Proctors  leapt  upon  us,  crying,  'Names  !' 
He,  standing  still,  was  clutch'd ;  but  I  began 
To  thrid  the  musky-circled  mazes,  wind 
And  double  in  and  out  the  boles,  and  race 
By  all  the  fountains.      Fleet   I  was  of  foot ; 
Before  me  shower'd  the  rose  in  flakes;  behind 
I  beard  the  pufl"'d  pursuer;  at  mine  car 
Bubbled  the  nightingale  and  heeded  not. 
And  secret  laughter  tickled  all  my  soul. 
At  last  I  hook'd  my  ankle  in  a  vine 
That  claspt  the  feet  of  a  Mnemosyne, 
And    falling    on  .my    face    was    caught    and 
known. 

They  haled  us   to   the   I'nncess   where   she 

sat 
High  in  the  hall ;  above  her  droo])'d  a  lamp, 
And  made  the  single  jewel  on  her  brow 
Burn  like  the  mystic  fire  on  a  mast-head. 
Prophet  of  storm ;  a  handmaid  on  each  side 
Bow'd  toward  her,  combing  out  her  long  black 

hair 
Damp   from  the  river;  and  close  behind  her 

stood 
Eight  daughters  of  the  plough,  .stronger  than 

men. 


Huge  women  blowzcd  with  health,  and  wind, 

and   rain. 
And  labor.     Each  was  like  a  Druid  reck; 
Or  like  a  spire  of  land  that  stands  apart 
Cleft   from  the  main,  and  wail'd  about   with 

mews. 

Then,  as  we  came,  the  crowd  dividing  clove 
An    advent    to   the   throne ;    and    thcrebcside, 
Half-naked  as  if  caught  at  once  from  bed 
And  tumbled  on  the  purple  fcotcloth,  lay 
The  lily-shining  child  ;  and  on  the  left, 
BowVl    on    her    palms    and    folded    up    from 

wrong. 
Her   round   white   shoulder   shaken    with    her 

sobs, 
^Melissa  knelt ;  but  Eady  Blanche  erect 
Stood  up  and  sjiake,  an  affluent  orator: 

'It  was  not  thu.s,  O  Princess,  in  old  davs; 
You  prized  my  counsel,  lived  ujxm  my  lips. 
I  led  you  then  to  all  Ihe  Castalics ; 
I  fed  3'ou  with  the  milk  of  every  Muse ; 
I  loved  you  like  this  kneeler,  and  you  me 
Your    second    mother,    those    were    gracious 

times. 
Then   came  your  new   friend ;   you  began  to 

change — 
I  saw  it  and  grieved — to  slacken  and  to  cool ; 
Till  taken  with  her  seeming  openness 
You  turn'd  your  warmer  currents  all 

to  her. 
To  me  you  froze ;  thi.s  was  my  meed  for  all. 
Yet  I  bore  up  in  part  from  ancient  love. 
And  partly  that  I  hoped  to  win  you  liaek. 
And  partly  conscious  of  my  own  deserts. 
And  partly  that  you  were  m^'  civil  head. 
And    chiefly    you    were    born    for    somethine 

great. 
In  which  I  might  your  fellow-worker  be. 
When   time   should   serve;   and   thus   a  noble 

scheme 
Grew   u])    from   seed  we   two   long  since  had 

sown ; 


%m  w 

■/■'liliW,.-' 


THE      P  Rl  N  CESS 


^CM-Vi 


In  us  true  p;rn\vth,  in  her  a  Jonali's  yourd, 
Up  in  one  niylit  and  due  to  sudden  sun. 
Wc  took  this  palace;  hut  even   frnni   the  fii-^t. 
You    stood    in    your   own    Hght    and    darken'd 

mine. 
Wiiat  .stucKnt   came  hut   tliat   ynu  j)laned  lier 

})ath 
To  Lady  Psyche,  younger,  not  so  wise, 
A  foreigner,  and  I  your  countrywoman, 
I   your  old   friend   and   tried,  she  new   in   all? 
I$ut  still  her  lists  were  swell'd  and  mine  were 

lean ; 
Yet  I  hore  up  in  hope  she  would  he  known. 
Then  came  tlie.sc  wolves ;  they  knew  her ;  tlu'i/ 

endured, 
liOng-closL'teil  with  her  tlic  ycstermorn. 
To  tell  her  what  they  were,  and  she  to  hear. 
And  me  none  told.     Not  less  to  an  eye  like 

mine, 
A  lidless  watcher  of  the  jiuhlic  weal, 
Last  night,   their  mask  was  patent,  and  my 

foot 
AVas  to  you.     But  I  thought  again;  I  fear'd 
To  meet  a  cold  "We  thank  you,  we  sliall  hear 

of  it 
From  I>ady  Psyche ;"  you  had  gone  to  her. 
She  toll!,  perforce,  and  winning  easy  grace, 
No  douht,  for  slight  delay,  remain'd  among  us 
In  our  young  nursery  still  unknown,  the  stem 
Less  grain  than  touchwood,  while  my  honest 

heat 
Were  all   miscounted  as  malignant   haste 
To  j)nsh  mv  rival  out  of  place  and  power. 
But  jnihlic  use  required  slie  should  he  known; 
And  since  my  oath  was  ta'en  for  puhlic  use, 
I  hruke  the  letter  of  it  to  keep  the  sense. 
I  sj)okc  not  then   at  first,  hut   watclTd  them 

well. 
Saw    that  they  kept  apart,  no  mischief  done; 
AtkI  yet   this  day — tho'  you   should  hate  me 

for  it— 
I  came  to  tell  you;  found  Ih.-it  you  had  gone. 
Ridden    to    the    hills,    she    likewise.      Now,    I 

thoutrht. 


That  surely  she  will  sj)eak  ;  if  not,  tlien  I. 
Did  ship     These  monsters  hlazon'd  what  they 

were. 
According  to  the  coarseness  of  their  kind. 
For    thus    I    hear ;    and   known    at    lust — my 

work — 
And  full  of  cowardice  and  guilty  shame — 
I  grant  in  her  some  sense  of  shame — she  flies ; 
And  I  remain  on  whom  to  wreak  vour  rase, 
I,  that   have   lent   my  life  to  huiki  up  yours, 
I,  that   have  wasteil   here  health,  wealth,   and 

time. 
And  talent.  I — you  know  it — I  will  not  boast; 
Dismiss  me,  and  I  prophesy  your  plan. 
Divorced   from   my   experience,   will  be   chaff 
For  every   gust  of  chance,  and  men  will  say 
Wr  did  not  know  the  real  lia'ht,  but 

chased 
The    wisp    that    flickers    where    no    foot    can 

tread." 

She    ceased;    the    Princess   answer'd   coldly, 
'Good  ; 
Your  oath    is   t)ri;ken;   we   dismiss  you,   go. 
For  this  lost  lamb' — she  jiointed  to  the  child — • 
'Our  mind  is  changed ;  wo  take  it  to  ourself.' 

Thereat  tlie  lady  sti-etch'd  a  vulture  throat, 
And  shot  from  crookid  lij)s  ;i  haggard  smile. 
'The    j)lan   was    mine.      I   built    the   nest,'   she 

said, 
'To  hatch  the  cuckoo.      Kise  !'  and  stoo])'d  to 

ujidrag 
iNIelissa.     She,  half  on  her  mother  jiropt, 
Ilalf-drooping  from  her,  turn'd  her  face,  and 

cast 
A  li(piid  look  on  Ida,  full  of  prayer. 
Which  nu'lled  I'lorian's  fancy  as  she  hung. 
A   Niobean   daughter,   one  arm   out, 
Apjiealing  to  the  bolts  of  heaven;  and  while 
Wc  gazed  U]ion  hei-  came  a  little  stir 
About  the  doors,  and  on  a  .sudden   I'Ush'd 
Among  us,  out  of  bi'ealh.  as  one  jiursued, 
A  woTnan-])ost   in  tlving  raiment.      ]'"ear 


A    M  E  D  LEY 


Stared  in  her  eyes,  and  clialk'd  licr  face,  and 

wing'd 
Her  transit  to  tlic  tlnxnic,  wiicrehy  slie  fell 
Delivering  seal'd  dispatches  which  the  Head 
Took  half-amazed,  and  in  her  lion's  mood 
Tore  open,  silent  we  witii  blind  surmise 
Regardinff,  wliile  she  read,  till  over  brow 
And    cheek    and    bosom    brake    the    wratlil'iil 

Ijloom 
As  of  some  fire  ag'ain.st  a  stormy  cloud. 
When  the  wild  peasant  rights  himself,  the  rick 
Flames,  and  his  anger  reddens  in  the  heavens; 
For    anger    most    it    seemM,    while    now    her 

breast, 
Beaten  with  some  great  passion  at  her  heart. 
Palpitated,  her  liand  shook,  ami  we  heard 
In  the  dead  hush  the  ])apers  that  she  held 
Rustle.      At  once  the  lost  lamb  at  her  feet 
Sent  out  a  bitter  bleating  for  its  dam. 
The    plaintive    cry    jarr'd    on    her    ire;    she 

crusliM 
The  scrolls  together,  made  a  sudden  turn 
As  if  to  speak,  but,  utterance  failing  her, 
Siie  wliirl'd  tiiem  on  to  me,  as  who  should  sa^' 
'Read,'    and    I    read — two    letters — one     her 

sire's : 

'P'air   daughter,   when   we   sent    the   Prince 
your  way 
We   knew   not   your    ungracious    laws,    wliicli 

learnt, 
We,  conscious  of  what  temper  you  are  built, 
Came  all  in  ha.ste  to  hinder  wrong,  but  fell 
Into  his  father's  band,  who  has  this  night, 
You  lying  close  upon  his  territory, 
Slipt  round  and  in  the  dark  invested  vou. 
And  here  he  keeps  me  hostage   for  his  son.' 
The  second  was  my  father's  nuuiing  thus : 
'You  have  our  son ;  touch  not  a  hair  of  liis 

head ; 
Render    him    up    unscathed;    give    him    your 

hand ; 
Cleave  to  your  contract — tho'  indeed  we  hear 
Vou  hold  the  woman  is  the  better  man ; 


A  rampant  heresy,  such  as  if  it  spread 
Would    make   all    women    kick   against   their 

lords 
I'hro'    all    the    world,    and    which    might    well 

deserve 
That  we  this  night  should  pluck  your  palace 

down  ; 
And  we  will  do  it,  unless  you  send  us  back 
Our  son,  on  the  instant,  wiiole.' 

So  far  I  read ; 
And  then  stood  up  and  sjjoke  impetuously : 

'O,  not  to  pry  and  peer  on  your  reserve, 
But  led  by  golden  wishes,  and  a  hope 
The  child  of  regal  compact,  did  I  break 
Your  precinct ;  not  a  scomer  of  youi  sex 
But  venerator,  zealou.s  it  slunild  be 
All  that  it  might  be.  Hear  me,  for  I  liear, 
Tho'     man,     yet     human,     whatsoe'er     your 

wrongs. 
From  the  flaxen  curl  to  the  gray  lock  a  life 
Less  nn'ne  than  yours.     My  nurse  would  tell 

me  of  you  ; 
I  babbled  for  you,  as  babies  for  the  moon, 
^'ague   brightness ;  when  a  boy,  you  stoop'd 

to  me 
From  all  high  places,  lived  in  all  fair  lights. 
Came  in  long  breezes  rapt  from  inmost  south 
And  blown  to  inmost  north;  at  eve  and  dawn 
With   Ida,  Ida,  Ida,  rang  the  woods; 
The  leader  wild-swan  in  among  the  stars 
Would  clang  it,  and  lapt  in  wreaths  of  glow- 
worm light 
The  mellow  breaker  murmur'd  Ida.     Now, 
Because  I  would  have  reach'd  you,  had  you 

been 
Sphered  up  witli  Cassiopeia,  or  the  enthroned 
Persephone  in  Hades,  now  at  Icngih, 
Those  winters  of  abeyance  all  woni  out, 
A  man  I  came  to  see  you  ;  but,  indeed, 
Not  in  this  frequence  can  I  lend  full  tongue, 
O  noble  Ida,  to  those  thoughts  that  wait 
On  you,  their  centre.    Let  me  say  but  this, 
That  many  a  famous  man  and  woman,  town 


THE      PRINCESS 


v>- 


vA  !<<!'. 


And  laiul.^ki]),  liavc  I  licanl  of,  after  seen 
Tile    dwarfs    of    presage;    tlio'    when    known, 
tliere  grew 
•^     Another  kind  (if  hi  .■mty  in  detail 

]\Iade  them  worth  knowing;  but  in  you  I  found 
]\I_y  boyish  dream  involved  and  da/zled  down 
And  master'd.  \\hile  that   after-beautv  makes 
Such  head  frcmi  ai't  to  aet.  from  hour  to  liciur, 
Within  me,  that  exeejit  vou  slay  me  here, 
According  to  voui"  hitter  >taiuti-hciok, 
I  cannot  ceasr  to  follow  vou,  as  tliev  say 
The  .seal  d(ies  music:  who  de>ire  vou  mcu'c 
Than    grnwing    hoys    their    manhiind;    dying 

Ii]i.N, 
With  maiiv  thousand  matters  left  to  <lo, 
Tlie  hi'eath  of  life;  O,  more  than  ^'oor  men 

-t  -^  Than    sick    men    liealth — yours,    yours,    not. 

A^   s^^'\  mine— hut   half 

V*"^^  a;  V3  K'*,.:        Without  you;  with  you,  whole;  and  of  those 

halves 
Y(iu  win'thiest  ;  and  howe'er  vou  block  and  bar 
Your  heart  with  system  out  from  mine,  I  hold 
That  it  becomes  no  man  to  nurse  despair, 
But   in    the   teeth   of  clencliM   antagonisms^ 
T(i  follow  up  the  worthiest  till  he  die. 
Yet  that  I  came  not  all  unauthorized 
Behold    your    father's    letter.' 

On    one    knee 
Kneeling.    I    ga\e    it,   which   .she   caught,   and 

dashM 
Uno])en'd  at  her  feet.     A  tide  of  fierce 
Invective   seeniM   to   wait   behind   her   lips. 
As  waits  a  river  level  with  the  dam 
Beady  to  biir.st  and  tlnod  the  wcu'ld  with  foam; 
And  so  she  would  lia\e  spoken,  but  there  rose 
A  hubbub  in  the  court    td'  half  the  maids 
Gatlier'd  together;  from  the  illumined  hall 
Long  lanes  of  s])lendor  slanted  u'lr  a  jircss 
Of  snowv  shoulders,  thick  as  herded  ewc.s, 
And    raiiili(i\v     robes,    and    gems    and    gemlike 

eyes. 
And    gold   and    golden    heads.      They    to   and 

fro 


-— ^ 


Fluctuated,  :'.s  flowers  in  storm,  some  red,  some 

pale. 
All   opeii-nioutird,   all   gazing   to   the   light. 
Some  crying  there  was  an  army  in  the  laiiil. 
And  some  that  men  were  in  tlic  very  walls, 
And  some  they  cared  not ;  till  a  clamor  grew 
As  of  a  new-world  Babel,  woman-built, 
And    worse-confounded.       High    above    tluiii 

stood 
The  j)lacid  marble  Muses,  looking  peace. 

Not   peace   she  InokM.  the   Ileail;  but   ris- 
ing up 
Bobed  in  the  long  night  of  her  deep  hair,  so 
To  the  oj)en  window  moved,  remaining  there 
Fixt  like  a  beacon-tower  above  the  waves 
Of  temj>ist,  when  the  crimson- rolling  eye 
Glares  ruin,  and  the  wild  liirds  on  the  light 
Dash  themsehe.s  dead.     She  stretclvd  her  arms 

and  callM 
Across  the  tumult,  and   the   tumult   fell. 

'What    fear  ye,  brawlers?   am   not  T  j'our 

I  lead  .^ 
On  me,  me,  me,  the  storm  first  breaks;  /  dare 
All  these  male  thunderbolts  :  what  is  it  ye  fear.'' 
Peace!  there  are  those  to  avenge  us  and  they 

come  ; 
If  not. —  myself  were  like  enough,  O  girls, 
To  unfurl  the  maiden  banner  of  our  rights, 
And  clad   ill    iron   hurst   the   ranks  of  war. 
Or,  falling,  protomartvr  of  our  cause. 
I)ie  ;  vet  I  blame  vou  not  so  much  for  fear: 
Six    thousand    vears    of    tear    lia\e    made    you 

tliat 
From    which    I    would    redeem    vou.      But    for 

those 

That  stir  this  hubbub — you  and  you — I  know 
Your    faces    there    in    the    crowd^to-niorrow 

miu'ii 
Wv  hold   a  great   convention:  then  shall  tlicy 
'I'liat    lo\e   tliiir  Miices   mori'  than  duty,  leani 
A\'ith   whom    the\    deal,  disiniss'd   in  shame  to 

live 


A    M  ED LEY 


No  wiser  than  tlicir  iiiotlicrs,  liouselinld  shiff, 
Live  chattels,  niincers  of  each  otlier'.s  tame, 
Full  of  weak  j)oison,  turnspits  for  the  clown. 
The   drunkard's    football,    laughing-stocks   of 

Time, 
Whose  brains  arc  in  their  hands  and  in  their 

heels, 
But  fit  to  flaunt,  to  dress,  to  dance,  to  thrum, 
To  tranij),  to  ; cream,  to  inirnish.  and  to  scour, 
For  ever  slaves  at  home  and  fools  abi'oad.' 

She,  ending,  waved  her  hands;  thereat  the 

crowd 
i\Iuttering,  dissolved:  then  with  a  smile,  that 

look'd 
A  stroke  of  cruel  sunshine  on   the  clitf, 
When  all  the  glens  are  drowiiM  in  azure  gloom 
Of  thunder-shower,  she  floated  to  us  and  saitl : 

"You  have  done  well  and  like  a  gentleman. 
And  like  a  jn'ince ;  you  have  our  thanks  for 

all. 
And  vou  look  wt'll  too  m  vour  woman's  dress. 
Well  have  you  done  and  like  a  gentleman. 
You  saved  our  life;  we  owe  you  bitter  thanks. 
Better  liave  died  and  .spilt  our  bones   in   the 

flood- 
Then   men  had  said — but   now — what   hinders 

mc 
To    take    .such    bloody    vengeance    on      you 

both?— 
Yet  since  our  father — wasps  in  our  go(!(l  hive. 
You    would-he   quenchers   of   the    light    to   be. 
Barbarians,  grosser  than  your  native  bear.s — 
O,  would  I  had  his  sceptre  for  one  hour! 
Ycu  that  have  dared  to  break  our  bound,  and 

gull'd 
Our  sen'ants,  wrong'd  and  lied  and  thwarted 

us — 
7  wed  with  thee!     I  bound  by  precontract 
Your  bride,  vour  bondslave !  not  tlio'  all  the 

gold 
That   veins    the    world    were    pack'd    to    make 

vour  crown. 


And    every    spoken    tongue  should   lord   j'ou. 

Sir, 
Your  falsehood  an<l  yourseif  are  hateful  to  us; 
I  tramjile  on   vour  offers  and  o;i  you. 
Besrone ;  we  will  not  lonk  uuon  vou  more. 
Here,  push  them  out  at  gates.' 

In  wiath  she  spake. 
Then    those    eight   mighty    daughters    of    the 

])lough 
Bent    their   broad    faces   toward    us    and    ad- 

dress'd 
Their  motion.      Twice  I  sought  to  j)lead  my 

cause, 
But  on  my  shouldir  hung  their  heavy  liands, 
The  weight  of  destiny;  so  from  her  face 
They    push'd    us,    down    the   steps,    and   thro' 

the  court. 
And    with    ii'rim    lauffhter   thrust    us    out    at 

gates. 

We  cross'd  the  street   and  gain'd  a  petty 
mound 
Beyond  it,  whence  we  saw  the  lights  and  heard 
Tlie    voices    nuu'nuiring.       While    I    listen'd, 

came 
On  a  suddiii  the  weird  seizure  and  the  doubt. 
I  seem'd  to  move  among  a  w(n-ld  of  ghosts ; 
The    Princess    with    her    monstrous    woman- 
guard. 
The  jest  and  earnest  working  side  by  side, 
The  cataract  and  the  tumult  and  the  kings 
Were  shadows;  and  the  long  fantastic  night 
With  all  its  doings  had  and  had  not  been. 
And  all   things   were  and  were  not. 

This  went  by 
As  strangely  as  it  came,  and  on  my  spirits 
Settled  a  gentle  cloud  of  melancholy — 
Not  long;  I  shook  it  off;  for  spite  of  doubts 
And  sudden  ghostlv  shadowings  I  was  one 
To  whom  the  touch  of  all  mischance  but 

came 
As  night  to  liini  that  sitting  on  a  hill 
Sees  the  midsummer,  midnight,  Norway  sun 
Set  into  sunrise :  then  we  moved  awav. 


b'^^inJC'W!?fL'!:r;'3t|n«   Y  f" 


IN  TE  RLUD  E 

Tliy  voice  is  heard  thro'  rolHng  drums 

That  beat  to  battle  where  he  stands; 
Til}'  face  across  his  faiic}'  comes, 

And  gives  the  battle  to  his  hands. 
A  moment,  while  the  trumpets  blow. 

He  sees  liis  brood  about  thy  knee ; 
The  next,  like  fire  he  meets  tlie  foe. 

And  strikes  him  dead  for  thine  and  tliL'e. 

So  Lilia  sang.     We  tliouglit  her  lialf-possess'd, 

Slic  struck  sucli  warbling  fury  thro'  the  words; 

And,  after,  feigning  pique  at  what  she  calTd 

The  raillery,  or  grotesque,  or  false  sublime — 

IJke  one  that  wishes  at  a  dance  to  clianae 

The  music — clapt  her  hands  and  cried  fnr  war. 

Or  some  grand  fight  to  kill  and  make  an  end. 

And  he  that  next  inherited  tliL'  tale, 

Half  turning  to  the  broken  statue,  said, 

'Sir  Ralph  has  got  your  colors :  if  I  jn-ove 

Your  knight,  and  fight  your  battle,  what  for  me?' 

It  chanced,  her  empty  glove  upon  the  tomb 

Lay  by  lier  like  a  model  of  lier  hand. 

She  took  it  and  she  fiung  it.     'Fight,'  .she  said, 

'And  make  us  all  we  would  be,  great  and  good.' 

He  knightlike  in  his  cap  instead  of  casque. 

A  cap  of  Tyrol  borrow'd  from  the  hall. 

An-anged  the  favor,  and  assumed  the  Prince. 


^ 


r  ^   ;^' 


x-<^^^^^. 


"^3^*-'^^        y"  M' 


fv/ 


P  A  RT      F  I  VB 


^'<^:^^^^ii^ 


PART       FIVE 


Now,   scarce   three   paces  measured    from  the 

mouiul, 
We  stumbled  on  a  stationary'  voice, 
And  'Stand,  who  goes?'     'Two  from  tlic  pal- 
ace,' I. 
'The  second  two :  they  wait,'  he  said,  'pass  on  ; 
His   Highness   wakes;'    and   one.   that    elash'd 

in  arms, 
Bv  glimmering  lanes  and  walls  of  canvas  led 
'J'hreading  the  soldier-city,  till  we  heard 
The  drowsy  folds  of  our  great  ensign  sliake 
From  blazon'd  lions  o'er  the  imperial  tent 
Whispers  of  war. 

Entering,  the  sudden  light 
Dazed  nie  half-hlind.      I  stooil  and  seem'd  to 

h.ear. 
As  in  a  p(H)lai'  grove  when  a  light  wind  wakes 
A  lis]iing  of  the  imiuinerous  leaf  and  dies, 
Ivieli  hi.-sing  in  his  neighbor's  ear;  and  thcTi 
A  strangled  titter,  out   of  which  there  brake 


On  all  sides,  clamoring  etiquette  to  death, 

Unmeasured  mirlh:  wliile  now  tl;e  two  old 
kings 

Began  to  wag  their  bal(!ne>s  up  and  down. 

Tiie  fresh  young  ca])tains  tlash'd  their  glit- 
tering teeth, 

The    hu<i'c    bush-bearded    barons    heaved    and 


lilew. 
And    slain    with    laughter    ridi'tl 
squire. 


ildei 


At  length  my  sire,  his  rough  cheek  wet  with 

tears. 
Panted  from  weary  sides,  "King,  you  are  free! 
We  did  but  keep  you  surety  for  our  son, 
If  this  be  be, — or  a  draggled  mawkin,  thou, 
That     tends    her    bristled     grunters    in    the 

sludge ;' 
Fin'  I  was  drench'd  with  ooze,  and  torn  with 

briers. 


THE      P  RIN  CESS 


J 


^',:    f 


M 


"<X 


k/'  ^\  ■ 


•^v. 


]\Iorc  criinipleil  tlum  a  JJojjpy  f'roiii  the  slieatli. 
And  all  one  rag,  disjiriiiccd  t'rdin  luad  tn  heel. 
Then  some  one  sent  beneath  lus  \aul(ed  jiahn 
A  whispcr'il  jest  to  some  one  near  him,  "I^onk, 
He  has  been  amon^'  lii^  ^hatlows.'  "Satan  take 
Tlie  old  women  and  their  shadows!' — thus  the 

kino- 
Koar'd — 'make   yourself  a   man   to  fijj,ht    with 

men. 
Go;  Cyril  told  us  all." 

As  hoys  that  slink 
From  ferule  and  the  tresj)ass-elii(lin<4'  eye, 
Away   "e  stole,  and  transient   in  a  triee 
From  what  was  left  of  faded  woman-slouch 
'I'll   >heatliin^'  ^|)Iendors   and   the   golden   scale 
(If  harness,  issued  in  the  sun,  that   now 
Leapt    from    the   dewy   shoulders   (d'   tl.e   earth, 
i\nd  hit  the  Northern  hills.  Here  Cyril  met  us, 
A  little  shy  at  first.  Init  by  and  l:y 
We    twain,    with    mutual    pardon    ask'd    and 

H'iven 
For  stroke  and  song,  rcsolder'd  peace,  whereon 
Follow'd  his  tale.     Amazed  he  fled  away 
Thro"  the  dark  land,  and  lati  r  in  the  night 
Had   come   on    Psyche   weeping:   'then   we   fell 
Into   vour  father's  hand,  and  there  she  lies, 
But   will    not    sjieak    nor  stir." 

He  show"d  a  tent 
A  stone-shot  otf ;  we  enter'd  in,  and  there 
Among  jiiled   ai'ms  and   i'c)ugh  at'coul  renients. 
Pitiful  sight,  wra])ji"d  in  a  .soldier's  cloak. 
Like  some  sweet  sculpture  draped   from   head 

to    foot. 
And   jiu'^h'd  by   laule  hands   from   its   pedestal, 
All  hrr  fair  length  upon  the  ground  she  lay; 
And  at   her   head   a   follower  of  the  camp, 
A  charr'd  and  wrinkled   jiiece  of  womanhood, 
S.at  watching  like  a  watcher  by  the  dead. 

Then    Fhn'ian    knelt,   and    'Come,"    he   whis- 

•ner'd  to  her, 
'Lift  up   your  head,  sweet  sisti'r;  lie  not   thus. 
What  have  you  done  but  right.''  you  could  not 

slay 


Me,  noi'  your  ])rinco;  look  up,  be  comforted. 
Sweet  is  it  to  have  done  the  thing  one  ought, 
When  fallen  in  darker  ways."  And  likewise  I: 
'Be  comforted ;  haye  I  not  lost  her  too. 
In  wlio.se  lea>t  act  abides  the  nameless  charm 
That  lunie  has  else  for  me.''"      She  heard,  she 

moved. 
She  moan"d,  a   folded   voice:  and  up  she  sat, 
And    i-aised    the    cloak    from    brows    as   pale 

and  smooth 
As  those  that  mourn  half-shrouded  ovei'  deatli 
In    deathless    mai-ble.       'Her,*    she    said,    'my 

friend — 
Parted    from    her — bctray'd    her    cause    and 

mine — 
Where  shall  I  breathe?  why  kept  ye  not  your 

faith? 
()  liase  and  bad!  what  cond'ort  ?  none  for  me!' 
To   whom   I'emorseful   Cyril.   "Vet   I   pray 
Take     comfort  :     li\e,    deal'     lady,     for     your 

child!' 
At  which  she  lifted  uji  her  voice  and  cried: 

'Ah  nic,  my  babe,  my  blossom,  ah.  my  child, 
i\Iy  one  sweet  child,  whom  I  >hall  see  no  more! 
Yor  now   will  cruel   Ida  keep  her  back; 
And  either  s\h-  will  die  from  want  of  care. 
Or  sicken   with   ill-usage,   when   they  say 
'I'he  child    is    hers — for   every    little   fault. 
The  child  is  hers;  and  they  will  beat  my  girl 
Reinenibering  her  mother — C)  my  flower! 
Or  they  will  take  her,  they  will  make  her  hard. 
And  she  "ill  })ass  mc  by  in  after-life 
\\'ith    .collie    cold    reverence    worse    than    were 

she  dead. 
Ill  mother  that   I  was  to  lea\'e  her  there. 
To  lag  behind,  scared  by   the  cry   they  made. 
The  horrcn'  of  the  shame  among  them  all. 
But    I    will    go    and    sit    beside   the   doors. 
And   make  a   wild   |ielilion   night  and  day, 
TTutil    Ihev    h.ite   to   hear   me    like  a   wind 
Wailing   for  e\er,  till   tlie\    npni   to  me, 
.\lid    lav    inv    little    blosMiiii    at    niv    feel. 
i\lv  babe,  my  sweet   A^'laVa.  iiiv  one  child; 


A    M  ED  LEY 


And  I  will  take  licr  up  and  go  nij  way, 
And  satisfy   my   soul    with   kissing-   her. 
Ah!  what  might  that  man  not  deserve  of  mo 
Who    gave    me    back    my    cliild?'      'Be    com- 
forted,' 
Said  Cyril,  'you  shall  Jiave  it  :'  Imt  again 
Slie    vcil'd    her   brows,    and    prone    she   sank, 

and  so. 
Like  tender  things  that  being  caught  feign 

death, 
Spoke    not,    nor    stin-'d. 

By   this   a  murmur  ran 
Tlu-o'    all    the   camp,    and   inward   raced   the 

scouts 
With  runun-  of  Prince  Arac  hard  at  hand. 
We  left  her  by  the  woman,  and  without 
Found  the  gray  kings  at  parlc;  and  'Look 

you,'  cried 
]\Iv  father,  "that  our  conij)act  be  fultili'd. 
You    have    spoilt    this    child;    she    laughs    at 

3'ou  and  man ; 
She'  wrongs   herself,   her   sex,    and    me,    and 

him. 
But  red-faced  war  has  rods  of  steel  and  fire; 
She  yields,  or  war.' 

Then  Gama  turn'd  to  me: 
'We  fear,  indeed,  you  spent  a  stormy  time 
With  our  strange  girl ;  and  yet  they  say  that 

still 
You  love  her.      Give  us,  then,  3'our  mind  at 

large : 
How  say  you,  war  or  not.-" 

'Not    war,    if   possible, 
O  king,'  I  said,  'lest  from  the  abuse  of  war. 
The  desecrated  shrine,  the  trampled  year. 
The  smouldering  homestead,   and  the  house- 

liold  flower 
Torn      from     the      lintel — all     the     common 

wrong — 
A  smoke  go  up  thro'  which  I  loom  to  her 
Three    times    a    monster.      Now    she    lightens 

sconi 
At  him  that  mars  her  plan,  but  then  would 
hate— 


And  every  voice  she  talkM  with  ratif}'  it, 
And  ever}'  face  she  look'd  on  justify  it — 
The  General  foe.     ^lore  soluble  is  this  knot 
By  gentleness  than  war.     I  v-ant  her  love. 
What   were  I  nigher  this  altho'  we  dash'd 
Your  cities  into  shards  with  catapults? — 
She  would  not  love — or  brought  her  chain'd, 

a  slave. 
The  lifting  of  wlwse  eyehush  is  my  lord? 
Not  ever  would  she  love,  but  brooding  turn 
The  book  of  scorn,  till  all  my  flitting  chance 
Were  caught  within  the  record  of  her  wrongs 
And  ci-ush'd  to  death;  and  rather.  Sire,  than 

this 
I  would  the  old  god  of  war  himself  were  dead, 
Forgotten,  rusting  on  his  iron  hills. 
Rotting  on  some  wild  shore  with  ribs  of  wreck, 
Or  like  an  old-world  mammoth  bulk'd  in  ice, 
Not   to  be  molten   out.' 

And  roughly  spake 
]\Iy    father:   'Tut,   you   know    them    not,   the 

girls. 
Boy,  when  I  hear  you  j)rate  I  ahiiost  think 
That  idiot  legend  credible.     Look  you,  sir! 
]\Ian  is  the  hunter;  woman  is  his  game. 
The  sleek  and  shining  creatures  of  the  chase, 
Wc  hunt  them  for  the  beauty  of  their  skins; 
They  love  us  for  it,  and  we  ride  them  down. 
Wheedling  and  siding  with  them!      Out!  for 

shame ! 
Boy,  there's  no  rose  that's  half  so  dear  to  them 
As  he  that  does  the  thing  they  dare  not  do. 
Breathing    and    sounding    beauteous    battle, 

comes 
With  the  air  of  the  trumpet  round  him,  and 

leaps   in 
Among  the  women,  snares  them  by  the  score 
Flatter'd  and  fluster'd,  wins,  tho'  dash'd  with 

death 
He  reddens  what  he  kisses.     Thus  I  won 
Your  mother,  a  good  mother,  a  good  wife. 
Worth   wimiing:   but   this   firebrand — gentle- 
ness 
To  such  as  her !  if  Cyril  spake  her  true, 


,.^«ic.-„.  .\7    / 


THE      PRINCESS 


To  catcli  a  (]raij,(in   In  a  cliurrv  net, 
To  tri('  a  tigress  with  a  ^■n>^anicr. 
Were  wisdom  to  it." 

'Vea.  l>ut.  Sire.'  I  ci'ied, 
'Wild    naliires    neeil   wise   laii-lis.     Tlie  soldier? 

No! 
What   dares  not  Ida  do  that  sl'.e  should  prize 
"Jlie   soldier?      I   beheld   her,   when  she   rose 
Tlie    yesternight,    and    .storniint;-    in    extremes 
Stooil   for  her  eause.  and  tlnni;'  delianci'  down 
(lai'elike    to    man.    and    had    not    slinnnM    the 

deaih. 
No,  not   the  soldier's;   vet   I   hold  her.  king, 
'i'l'iie  woman;  l)nt  jou  elash  them  all  in  one, 
That  have  as   many  differences  as  we. 
The    violet    varies    from    the    lily    as    far 
As  oak   from  elm.     One  loves  the  soldier,  one 
The  silken  priest  of  peace,  one  this,  (me  that. 
And  some  unworthih' ;  their  sinless  faith, 
A    maiden   moon   that   sparkles  on   a   sty. 
(iloiii'ving    clown    and     satyr;    whence    they 

need 
More  hreadth   of  culture.      Is   not    Ida   right? 
Tlie\'    worth    it?   truer   to   the   law   within? 
Se\erer  in  the  logic  of  a  life? 
Twice  as  magnetic  to  sweet   influences 
Of  earth   and  heaven?   and  she  of   whom  you 

speak, 
;\Iy  mother,  looks  as  whole  as  sonic  serene 
Creation  minted  in  the  golden  moods 
Of  sovereign   artists;  not   a  thought,  a   touch, 
Hut    pure    as    lines    of   green    that    streak    the 

white 
Of  the  first  sno"  drop's  inner  lea\es;  I  sav. 
Not    like   the   piehald   iniscellaiiv.   man, 
Bursts    of    great    heai't    and    slips    in    sensual 

mire, 
But  whole  and  one;  and  lake  tliiin  all-in-all. 
Wert'  We  oursrUes  hut  half  as  good,  as  kind. 
As  truthful,  much  that  Ida  claims  as  right 
Had  ne'er  heeii  mooted,  hut  as  franklv  theirs 
As-  dni'S  of  Nature.  To  our  poiiil  ;  not  war. 
Lest   I  lose  all.' 

'Nav.    nav.    voi;    sjiake    hut    sense. 


S.aid    (iania.      'We   remember   love   our^eIf 
In  our  sweet  youth ;  we  did  not  i-atc  him  then 
This  red-hot  iron  to  be  shaped  with  blows. 
You  talk   almost   like   Ida;   .slic  can  talk; 
And   there   is  something  in  it  as  you  say: 
But  you  talk  kindhei';  we  esteem  vou  for  it. — 
He  seems  a  gracious  and  a  gallant  Prince, 
I   would  he   had  our  daughter.     For  the  rest, 
Our  own   detention,   wliv.  the  causes  wcigh'd, 
Fatlierlv  fears — vou  usi'd  us  courteouslv — 
Wc  would  do  much  to  gratify  your  Prince — 
We  pardon  it;  and  for  your  ingress  here 
Upon  the  skirt  and  fringe  of  our  fair  land. 
Yon  ilid  but  come  as  goblins   in  the  night, 
Nor    in    the    furrow    broke    the    ploughman's 

head. 
Nor   burnt    the   grange,   nor   buss'd   the   milk- 

ing-mai<l. 
N(H-  rohb'd  the  farmer  of  his  bowl  of  cream. 
But  let  your  Princi — our  royal  wcn-il  upon  it, 
He  comes  hack  safe — ride  with  us  to  our  lines. 
And  speak  with  Arac.  Arac'.s  word  is  thrice 
As  ours  with  Ida;  something  may  be  done — 
I     know     not     what — and    ours    shall    see    us 

friends. 
You,   likewise,  our  late  guest.s.  if  so  you  will, 
Follov.    us.     Who  knows?  we  four  may  build 

some    plan 
Foursfpiare    to    opposition.' 

Here  he   reach'd 
White    hands    of    farewell    to    ni}-    sire,    who 

grow  I'd 
An  answer  whieli.  half-mulllicl   in  his  heard, 
I.t't  so  much  out   that  gave  us  lea'.e  to  go. 

Th.en   rode  we  with  the  oUI   king  across  the 

law  ns 
Heni'ath        huge    trees,    a    thousand    rings    of 

Spring 
III   e\ei-v   hole,  a   song  on   every   sprav 
(If  birds  that   piped  their  \  aleiit  iiie^.  and  woke 
Desii'e   in    me   to   infuse   my   tale  ot'  love 
In    I  he    old    king's    ears,    wlio    promised    help, 

and    oo/ed 


_^,,.,.„ll    Inn  J'l.-.rhriStl' I'll 


A    M  ED  LEY 


All  o'er  with  lioney'd  answer  as  we  rode; 
And  blossoni-l'raii,rant  slij)t  the  heavy  dews 
Gather'd  by  night  and  peaee,  with  each  liglit 

air 
On  our  niaird  heads.    But  othc  r  tlmuglits  tlian 

j)eace 
Burnt    in    us,    wlicn    wc    saw    the    enihattieil 

squares 
And  squadrons  of  the  Prince,  ti-aiiipliiig  the 

flowers 
With  clamor;   for  among  tliem   rose  a  cry 
As  if  to  greet  the  king;  they  made  a  halt; 
The   horses   yell'd ;   the}-   cla-^ird    their   arms; 

the  drum 
Beat;    merrily-blowing    shi-illM     the    martial 

fife; 
And  in  the  blast  and  Ijray  of  the  lung  jiorn 
And  serpent-throated   bugle,  inidulated 
The  banner.     Anon  to  meet  u.s  ligiitiy  pranced 
Three  captains  out;  nor  ever  liad  I  >c  i  ii 
Such   thews   of   men.      The   midmost    and    the 

liighest 
Was  Arac;  all  about  his  motion  clung 
The  shadow  of  liis  sister,  as  the  beam 
Of  the   East,   that   play'd   upon   them,   made 

them  glance 
I, Ike    those    three    stars    of   the    airy    (ihmfs 

zone. 
That  glitter  Inirni.sh'd  by  the  frosty  dark ; 
And  as  the  fiery  Sirius  alters  hue. 
And  bickers  into  red  and  emerald,  shone 
Their  mcn'ions.  wash'd  with  morning,  as  they 

came. 

And  I  that  prated  peace,  whin  first  I  heard 
War-nuisic,  felt  the  bhnd  wihl-heast  of  force, 
Whose  home  is  in  the  sinews  of  a  man. 
Stir  in  me  as  to  strike.     Then  took  the  king 
His  tlnee  broad  sons:  with  now  a  wandering 

liand 
And  now  a  pointed  finger,  told  them  all. 
A  common  liglit  of  smiles  at  our  disguise 
Broke    from    their   lip.s,    and,    ere    the   windy 
jest 


Had  labor'd  down  within  his  ample  lungs, 
The    genial    giant,    Arac,    roU'd    himself 
Thrice  in  the  saddle,  tiien  burst  out  in  wsn-ds: 

'Oiu'  land  invaded,  'sdeatli !  and  he  himself 
Your  captive,  yet  my  father  wills  not  war  ! 
And,  'sdeath!  myself,  what  care  I,  war  or  no? 
But  then  thi.s  question  of  your  troth  remains;     ^-^,.^- 
And    there's   a    downright    honest    meaning   in 

hei'. 
She  flies  too  high,  she  flies  too  liigli  !  and  yet 
She   ask'd    but    sj)ace   and    fair-play    for    her 

scheme ; 
She  prest  and  prest  il^  on  nie — I  myself. 
What   know   I  of  these   things P   but,   life   and 

soul  ! 
I    thought     iier    half-right     talking    of    her 

wrongs ; 
I  say  she  flies  too  high,  'sdeaLh!  what  of  that.' 
I  take  lier  for  the  flower  of  womankind. 
And  so  I  often  told  her,  right  or  wrong; 
And,    Prince,    she    can    be    sweet    to   those    she 

loves. 
And,  right  or  wrong,  I  care  not ;  this  is  all, 
I  stand  upon  her  side ;  slie  made  me  swear  it — 
'Sdeath ! — and    with    solenui    rites   by    candle- 
light- 
Swear    by    Saint    something — I     forget    her 

Name — 
Her  that  talk'd  down  tlie  fifty  wisest  men; 
She  was  a  princess  too ;  and  so  I  sw  ore. 
Come,   this   is   all ;   she   will    not ;   waive   your 

claim. 
If  not,  the  foughten  field,  what  else,  at  once 
Decides  it,  'sdeath!  against  my  father's  will.' 

I  lagg'd  in  answer,  loth  to  render  up 
]\Iy  precontract,  and  loth  by  brainless  war 
To  cleave  the  rift  of  diff"erence  deeper  yet; 
Till  one  of  those  two  brothers,  half  aside 
And   fingering  at   the   hair  about   his   lip. 
To  prick  us  on  to  combat,  'Like  to  like ! 
The  woman's  gannent  hid  the  woman's  heart.' 
xV  taunt  that  clencli'd  his  purpose  like  a  blow ! 


THE      PRINCESS 


\^  For  fiery-sliort   was  C'vril'.s  foimtir-scoff, 

1  I    islvVi  Anil  sharp  I  aiisucrcd.  tou'^liM  upon  tlir  point 

iJ^S^^,       Where   iilli'  Ijoys  are  cov.ards  to   their  shame, 
'Decide    it    hei'e;    why    not?    we    arc    tliree    to 
tlircc.' 


Tlicn  spake  tlie  tliird:  "l^ut   three  to  tin'ee? 
nil  nioi'c? 
No  more,  and   in  our  nol)le  sister's  cause? 
More,    ninre.    for    honor!   every    captain    waits 
Hunfi;rv   lor  lionoi'.  annrv   tor  his   kin<j;. 
]\Iore.    niiii'e.    some   (it't\'    on    a    side,    that    cacli 
]\Iay  lireatlie  liimself,  and  (|uick  I  l)_v  ovcrtln-ow 
Of  tliese  or  those,  the  que-tion  settled  die.' 

'Yea,'  answer'il   I.  'fur  this  wild   wreatli  of 

air. 
This  fl.'ike  of  i-ainhow  flvinij;  on  the  hinjiest 
Foam   of   n;en".s  ik'eds — this   honor,   if   vc  will. 
It   needs  niusi    he   for  honor   if  at   all; 
Since,   \\liat    decision?   if   we    fail   we   fail, 
And   if  «e  win  We  fail;  she  would   not  keep 
Her  compact.'      ' 'Sdeafh  I  hut   we  will  send  to 

her,' 
Said  Arac,  'worthy  reasons  why  she  should 
Bide  hy    this   issue;   let    our   missive   thro', 
And  YOU  sliall  have  her  answer  liy  the  word.' 

'Boj's !'   shriek'd    the   old   king,   l)ut   vainlier 

than   a  hen 
To  her  false  dauyhtei's  in  the  pool ;  for  none 
Regarded  ;   ncithei'   seein'd    there   more  to  say. 
Back  rode  we  to  my  fathcr'.s  camp,  and 

foiuid 
He  thrice  had  sent  a   herald  to  tlie  gates, 
To   learn   if   Ida   yet   would   vrdv   our  claim. 
(.'r   hy   denial   tlusli   her   halihling   wells 
With    her    own    people's    life;    three    times    lie 

went. 
The  li.st.  he  hlew  and  hleu  ,  hut  none  a]i]icar'd; 
He  hattcr'il  at  the  doors,  none  came;  the  next. 
An  awful  voice  within  had  waru'd  him  thence; 
The   third,   and    those   eight   daughters   of   the 

plough 


■ —  ■  -k  I'..  .  i^.u 


Came  sallying  thro"  the  gates,  rnd  caught  his 

hair, 
.\nil  so  helahor'il  him  on  rih  and  cheek 
They  made  him  wild.     Not  less  one  glance  he 

cauglit 
Thro'    open    doors    of   Ida    --tation'd   there 
I'lishaken.   clinging    to    her   ])urpose,   firm 
'I'ho'  coiiipass'd  hy   two  armies   and  the  noise 
Of  arms;  and  standing  like  a  stately  pine 
Set    III   a   cataract   on  an   island-crao;, 
^^"llen  stiu'in  is  on  the  hei<jhts,  and  rieht  and 

left 
Suck'd   from   the  dark   heart   of  tlie  long  hills 

roll 
The  torrents,  dash'd  to  the  vale;  and  yet  her 

will 
Bred  will  in  nie  to  overcome  it  or  fall. 

But  uIk'Ii  I  told  the  king  that  I  was  pledged 
To  tight    111   toiirnev   for  iii\    Iir  de,  he  clash'd 
His   iron   palms  together  with  a  cry; 
Himself  would  tilt   it   out  amoi;g  the  lads; 
But  overlioine  hy  all  his  hearded  lords 
^Vitll  reasons  drawn  from  age  and  state,  per- 
force 
He  yielded,  Avroth  and  red.  \yitli  fierce  demur; 
.\nil  many  a  hold  1  night  started  up  in  heat, 
^Vnd  s^varc  to  combat  for  my  claim  till  death. 

All  on  this  si(K'  the  jialace  ran  the  field 
Flat  to  the  garden-wall ;  and  likewise  here. 
Above  the  gardci.'s  glowing  blossom-belts, 
A  colunin'd  entry  shone  and  marble  stairs, 
.\nil     great     bronze     valves,     eniboss'd     with 

Toniyris 
And  what  she  did  to  Cyrus  after  fight. 
But   llo^v  fast  barr'd.      So  here  upon   the  fiat 
All  that  long  inorr.   the   lists  were  ham- 

mer'd   u]). 
And   all    that   morn   the   heralds  to  and   fro, 
A\'itli    message   and   dcliancc.   went    and    came; 
Last,    Id.a's    answer,    in    a    royal    hand. 
l?ut  shaken  here  and  there,  and   rolling  words 
Oral  inn-like.      I    kiss'd    it    and    I    read: 


A    MED  LEY 


'O  brotlifr,  you  have  known  tlie  j)angs  we 

felt, 
What  heats  of  indignation  wlien  wc  lieard 
Of  tliose  that  iron-cranip'd  their  women's  feet ; 
Of  lands  in  whicli  at  tlie  altar  the  poor  bride 
Gives    her    har.sli    groom    for    bridal-gift    a 

scourge ; 
Of  living  hearts  that  crack  within  the  fire 
Where  smoulder  their  dead   tksjjots ;  and  of 

those, — 
Mothers, — that,  all  prophetic  pity,  fling 
Tlieir  ])i-etty  maids  in  the  running  Hood,  and 

swoops 
The  vulture,  beak  and  talon,  at  the  heai-t 
]\Iade   for   all  noble  motion.      And   I  saw 
Tliat  equal  baseness  lived  in  sleeker  times 
Witli   smoother   men;   the   old   leaven   leaven'd 

all; 
Millions  of  throats  would  bawl  for  civil  rights. 
No  woman  named ;  therefore  I  set  my  face 
Against  all  men.  and  lived  but  for  mine  own. 
Far  off  from  men  I  built  a  fold  for  them ; 
I  stored  it  full  of  rich  memorial ; 
I  fenced  it  round  with  gallant  institutes, 
And  biting-  laws  to  scare  the  beasts  of  jirey, 
And  prosper'd,  till  a  rout  of  saucy  boys 
Brake   on   us   at   our  books,   and   marr'd   our 

peace, 
Mask'd  like  our  maids,  blustering  I  know  not 

what 
Of  insolence  and  love,  some  pi'ciext  held 
Of  baby  troth,  invalid,  since  my  will 
Seal'd     not     the    bond — the    striplings  ! — for 

tluir  sport ! — 
I  tamed  my  leopards;  shall  I  not  tame  these? 
Or  you?  or  I?  for  since  you  think  me  touch'd 
In    honor — what !        I    would    not    aught    of 

falsc^— 
Is  not  our  cause  pure?  and  whereas  I  know 
Your  prowess,  Arac,  and  what  mother's  blood 
You  draw  from,  fight !    You  failing,  I  abide 
What  end  soever;  fail  vou  will  not.     Still, 
Take  not  his  life,  he  risk'd  it  for  my  own; 
His  mother  lives.     Yet  wjiatsoe'er  vnu  do. 


Fight  and  fight  well;  strike  and  strike  home. 

O  dear 
Broth.ers,  the  woman's  angel  guards  3'ou,  you 
The  sole  men  to  be  mingled  with  our  cause. 
The  sole  men  we  shall  prize  in  the  aftertime. 
Your  very  armor  hallow'd,  and  your  statues 
Rear'd,   sung   to,    when,   this   gadfly   brush'd 

aside. 
We  plant  a  solid  foot  into  the  Time, 
And   mould  a  generation   strong  to  move 
With  claim  on  claim  from  right  to  right,  till 

she 
Whose   name   is   yoked   with   children's   know 

herself; 
And   Knowledge   in   our   own   land   make   her 

free, 
And.  ever  following  those  two- crowned  twins, 
Connnerce    and    Conquest,    shower    the    fiery 

grain 
Of   fri.edom.  broadcast    over   all   that    orbs 
Between  the  Northern  and  the  Southern  morn.' 

Then   came  a   postscript   dash'd  across  the 

rest : 
'See  that  there  be  no  traitors  in  your  camp. 
We  seem-  a  nest  of  traitors — none  to  trust 
Since  our  anns  fail'il — this  Egvj)t-plague  of 

men  ! 
Almost  our  maids  were  better  at  their  homes. 
Than  thus  man-girdled  here.     Indeed  I  think 
Our   chiefest    comfort   is    the    little    child 
Of  one  unworthy  mother,  which  she  left. 
Slie  shall   not   have   it  back ;   the   child   shall 

grow 
To  prize  the  authentic  mother  of  her  mind. 
I  took    it   for  an    hour   in   mine   own-  bed 
This  morning;  there  the  tender  orphan  hands 
Felt  at  my  heart,  and  seem'd  to  charm  from 

thence 
The     wrath  I     nursed     against     the     world. 

Farewell.' 

I  ceased ;  he  said,  'Stubborn,  but  she  may 
sit    . 


THE      P  RI N  CESS 


Uj)on   a  king's   ri<;lit  li.-md   in    tliuiidir.storms, 
Ami  breed  up  warriors!     Sec  now,  tlio"   your- 
self 
Be  dazzled  by  the  wiklfire  Love  to  sloughs 
That    swallow    common    sense,    the    spindling 

king. 
This   Gama   swamj)'d  in   lazy   tolerance. 
When  the  man  wants  weight,  tlie  woman  takes 

it  up, 
And  tnp|)les  down  tlie  scales  i  but  this  is  fixt 
As  arc  the  roots  ot"  earth  and  base  of  all, — 
Man  for  the  field  and  woman  for  the  hearth; 
Man  for  the  sword,  and  f(jr  the  needle  she; 
Man    with    the    head,    anil    woman    with    the 

heart ; 
Man  to  coniinand.  and  woman  to  obe}' ; 
All  else  confusion.     Look  you  I  the  gray  mare 
Is  ill  to  live  with,  when  her  whinny  shrilK 
From  tile  to  scullery,  and  her  small  goodman 
Shrinks  in  his  ai'iii-chair  while  the  fires  of  hell 
IVIix   with   his  heai'tli.      But   you — she's  yet   a 

colt — 
Take,     break     liei';     strongly     groom'd     and 

straitly  curb'd 
She  might  not  I'ank  with  those  tletestable 
That    let    the    bantling    scald    at    home,    and 

brawl 
Their   rights   or   wrongs    like   potherbs   in   the 

street. 
The}'    say    she's    comely:    there's    the    fairer 

chance. 
/  like  her  none  the  less   for  rating  at   her! 
Besides,  the  woman   wed   Is   noi  as  we, 
But   suffers  change  of  frame.      A  lusty  brace 
Of  twins  may  weed  her  of  her  follv.      Hoy. 
The  bearino-  and   the   training  of  a  child 
Is  woman's  wisdom.' 

Thus    the    hard   old    king. 
I  took  my  leave,  for  it  was  ne;irly  noon  ; 
I   ])(inil  upon    her  lettei-   which    I   held. 
And  on  the  litlli'  clause,  'take  not  his  life;' 
I  nnised   on   lli.at    wild   morning   in    I  he   woods. 
And   on    I  he   'l''ollciw,    I'ollow.   tliou    shall    win;' 
I  tliouiilit   on   .all   ll;e  wi'.'illiful   kini;   li.-id   s,-iid. 


And  how  the  strange  betrothment  was  to  end. 
Then  I  remembei-'d  lli.at  burnt  sorcerer's  curse 
That     one    should    fight     with     shadows     and 

should  fall: 
And  like  a  flash  the  weird  affection  came. 
King,    canij),    anil    college    turr'd    to    hollow 

shows ; 
I  seem'd  to  move  in  old  memorial  tilts, 
And  doing  battle  with   forgotten  ghosts, 
To  dream  myself  the  shadow  of  a  dream; 
And  ere  I  woke  it  was  the  point  of  noon, 
The     lists     were     ready.       Eimpanoplled     and 

plumed 
We   enter'il   in,   and   waited,   fifty   there 
Opposed  to  fifty,  till  the  trumpet  blared 
At   tin  barrier  like  a  wild  horn   in  a   land 
()f  I'clioes,  and  a  moment,  and  once  moi"e 
The  trunipit,  and  again;  at  which  the  storm 
Of    galloping    hoofs    bare    on    the    ridge    of 

spears 
And   riders   front   to   front,  until    they   clcsed 
In  conflict  with  the  crash  of  shivering  points. 
And    tluuider.       Yet    it    seem'd    a    dream,    I 

dream'd 
Of  fighting.     On  his  haunches  rose  the  steed, 
.\nd  into  fiery  s])linters  leapt  the  lance, 
.\nil  out   of  stricken   helmets  sprang  the  fire. 
Part  sat  like  rocks ;  part  reel'd  but  kept  their 

seats ; 
Part    roll'd   on   the  e.arth   and    rose  again   and 

drew  ; 
Part  stumbled   niixt    with   floundering  horses. 

Down 
From    those    two    bulks    at    Arac's    side,    and 

dow  n 
I'l'om  .Vrac's  arm,  as  from  a  gi.ant's  fl.iil. 
The   large   blows   rain'd,   as   here  and   every- 
where 
He  rode  the  mellay.  lord  of  the  ringing  lists, 
And    .all    till'    pl.-iiii--l)rand.   m;ice.  .and    sli,-ift, 

.and    shield — 
Shock'd,    like    .-m    ii'oii-cl.-inging    aii\il    bang"d 
Willi   h.-iiniiirrs  :  til!   I   lliouglit.  ('.•in  ibis  be  he 
I''rom   (i.-niLa's  dw.arlisli   loins?   if  Ibis  be  so. 


A    MED  LEY 


The  niotlicr  makes  us  most — ami  in  my  dream 
I   glanced   aside,  and  saw   the   jialaee-front 
Alive  with  fluttering  scai'fs  and  ladies'  eyes, 
And  highest,  among  the  statues,  statue-like, 
Between  a  cynibard  ]\Iiriam  and  a  Jael, 
With  Psyche's  babe,  was  Itla  watching  us, 
A  single  band  of  gold   about   lier  hair. 
Like  a  saint's  glory  up  in  heaven ;  but  she. 
No    saint — inexorable — no    tenderness — 
Too  hard,  too  cruel.      Yet  she  sees  me  fight, 
Yea.  let  her  see  me  fall.      With  that 

I  drave 
Among  the  thickest  and  boi-e  down  a  prince. 
And  Cyril  one.     Yea,  let  me  make  my  dream 
All   that    I   would.      But   that    large-moulded 

man. 
His  visage  all  agrin  as  at  a  wake, 
]\radc  at  me  thro'  the  press,  and,  staggering 

back 
With   stroke   on   stroke   the  horse   and   horse- 
man,  came 
As   comes  a   pillar  of  electric  cloud. 
Flaying  the  roofs  and  sucking  up  the  drains, 
And   shadowing  down   the   champaign   till   it 
strikes 


On  a  wood,  and  takes,  and  breaks,  and  cracks, 

and  sj)lits. 
And  twists  the  grain   with  such  a  roar  that 

Earth 
Reels,  and  the  herdsmen  cry;  for  everything 
Gave  wav  bet'ore  him.  Only  Florian,  he 
That  loved  me  closer  than  his  own  right  eye, 
Thrust  in  between  ;  but  Arac  rode  him  down. 
And  Cyril  seeing  it,  push'd  against  the  Prince, 
With  Psyche's  color  round  his  helmet, 

tough. 
Strong,  .supj)le,  sinew-corded,  apt  at  arms; 
But  tougher,  heavier,  stronger,  he  that  smote 
And  threw  him.     Last  I  spurr'd;  I  felt  my 

veins 
Stretch  witli  fierce  heat;  a  moment  hand  to 

hand. 
And   sw(n-(l   to  sword,   and  horse  to  horse  we 

hung. 
Till    I    struck    out    and    .shouted;    the    blade 

glanced, 
I   did   but    shear  a    feather,   and   dream   and 

truth 
Flow'd   from  me ;  darkness  closed  me,  and  1 

fell. 


t::::^-^      )i..?<'ei.«ityOk:s«y 


fc— ' 


'I" 


SONG 


Home  they  brouglit  her  warrior  dead ; 
She  nor  swonn'd  nor  uttcr'd  crv. 


Home  tliry   broiiglit   her   warrior  dead; 

She  nor  swooii'd  nor  utterM  cry- 
All    her    maidens,    watching,    said, 

'She  must  weep  or  she  will  die.' 

Then  they  praised  him,   soft   and  low, 
Call'd  him  worthy  to  be  loved. 

Truest  friend  and  noblest   foe; 

Yet    she    neither    spoke    nor    moved. 

Stole  a  maiden  from  her  place, 
Lightly   to   the   warrior  slept, 

Took  the  face-cloth  from  the  face; 
Yet  she  neither  moved  nor  wept. 

Rose  a  nurse  of  ninety  years, 
Set  his   child   upon   her  knee — 

Like  summer  tempest  came  her  tears — 
'Sweet  niv  child.  I  live  for  thee.' 


PART        SIX 


PART       SIX 


Mv  dream  liad  never  died  or  lived  again; 
As  in  some  mystic  middle  state  I  lay. 
Seeing  I  saw   not,   hearing  not  I   licard ; 
Tho',  if  I  saw  not,  yet  they  told  me  all 
So  often  that  I  speak  as  having  seen. 

For  so  it  seum'd,  or  so  they  said  to  me, 
That  all  things  grew  more  tragic  and  more 

strange ; 
That  when   our  side  was   vancjuisliM   and   my 

cause 
Fcr  ever  lost,  there  went  up  a  great  cry, 
'The  Prince  is  slain !'     i\Iy  father  heard  and 

ran 
In  on  the  lists,  and  there  unlaced  my  casque 
And  grovellVl  on  my  body,  and  after  him 
Came  Psyclie,  sorrowing  for  Agla'ia. 

But   high   upon   the   palace    Ida   stood 


With    Psyche's    babe    in    arm ;    there    on    the 

roofs 
Like  that  great  dame  of  Lajjidoth  she  sang. 

'Our  enemies  liave  fallen,  have  fallen :  the 
seed, 
The  little  seed  they  laugh'd  at  in  the  dark. 
Has  risen  and  cleft  the  soil,  and  grown  a  bulk 
Of  sjianless  girth,  that  lays  on  every  side 
A  thinisand  arms  and  rushes  to  the  sun. 

'Our  enemies  liave  fallen,  have  fallen :  they 

came ; 
The  leaves  were  wet  with  woman's  tears ;  they 

heard 
A  noise  of  songs  they  would  not  understand ; 
They  mark'd  it  with  the  red  cross  to  the  fall. 
And    would   liave  strewn    it,    and   are   fallen 

themselves. 


THE      PRINCESS 


'Our  enemies  have  fallen,  have  fallen:  thcj 

came, 
The  woodmen  with  their  axes:  lo  the  tree! 
But  wc   will  make  it   fap;yots   for  the  hearth, 
And  shape  it  jjlank  and  beam   for  roof  and 

floor. 
And  boats  and  bridges  for  the  use  of  men. 

'Our  enemies  have'  fallen,  have  fallen;  they 

struck  ; 
With   their  own   l)l()us   tliry    hurt   themselves, 

nor   knew 
There  dwelt  an  iron  nature  in  the  grain; 
The  glitterina'  axe  was  l)rokcn  in  their  anus. 
Their    arms    ueie    shatterM    to    the    shoulder 

blade. 

'Our    enemies    liave    fallen,    but    this    shall 

grow 
A  night  of  summer  from  the  lu'at.  a  l)readth 
Of  xVutunin.   dropping   fVuits   of   power;   and 

rollM 
\Yitli  musie  in  the  growing  breeze  of  Time, 
The   tojis   shall   strike   from   star   to   star,  the 

fangs 
Shall  move  the  ston_y  I)a.ses  of  the  world. 

'And   now,   U  maidN,   behold  our   sanctuary 
Is  violate,  our  laws  broke  n  ;  fear  we  not 
To   break    them    more    in    th(ir   behoof,    whose 

arms 
Champion'd  our  cause  and  won  it  with  a  day 
BlanchM  in  oiu'  annaK,  and  ]ierj)etiial  feast, 
When  dames  and  heroines  ol'  I  he  golilen  year 
Shall  strip  a  hundred  liollows  bare  of  Spring, 
T(j  rain  an  April  of  oxallon  round 
Their    statues,    borne    aloft,    the    three;    but 

come. 
We  will  be  liberal,  since  our  rights  are  won. 
Let  tlieui  not  lie  in  the  tent.s  with  coarse  man- 
kind, 
111   nurse-;;   l)ut    discend,   and    ])rofrer  these 
The    brethren    of   our    blood    and    cause,    that 
there 


Lie  bruised  .■uid  maini'd,  the  tender  ministries 
Of  female  hands  and  hospitality.' 

She  spoke,   and   with   the  babe  yet  in  her 

arms. 
Descending,    burst    tlie    great    bronze    valves, 

and    led 
A  hundred  maids  in  train  across  the  park. 
Some  cowl'd,  ar.d  some  bare-headed,  on  they 

came. 
Their   i'eet    in   flowers,  her  loveliest.    By  them 

went 
Tlie  cnamor'd  air  sighing,  and  on  their  curls 
From  the  high  tree  the  blossom  wavering  fell, 
And  over  them  the  tremulous  isles  of  light 
Slidi'd,  they  moving  under  shade;  but  Blanche 
At  distance  follow'd.      So  thev  came:  anon 
Thro'  open  field   into  tlie  lists  tluy  wound 
Timorouslv  ;  and  as  the  leader  of  the  hen! 
That   lidlds  a  stately   fretwork  to  the  sun. 
And   followM   u])  bv  a  hundred  airy  does. 
Steps   with  a   tender   foot,   light   as  on   air. 
The  lo\eIy,  Ici'dly   creature  floated  on 
To    where    her    wounded    brethren    lay ;    there 

stayM, 
Knelt   on   one  knee, — the  child  on  one, — and 

prest 
Their  hands,  and  callM  them  dear  deliverers, 
And  liappy  warriors,  and  innnortal   names, 
And  said,  'You  shall  not  lie  in  the  tents,  bu"", 

here, 
^Vnd    nursed   bv   those   for  whom  you   fought, 

and   ser\i(l 
With    female   hands  and  hospitality.' 

Then,    whether    moved    by    this,    or   was    it 

chance. 
She  past   mv  way.     Up  started  from  my  side 
The  old   lion,  glaring  with   his  whelpless  eye, 
Silent:  but   when  she  saw  me  lying  stark, 
DislielmM    and    mute,   anil    motionlessly    pale, 
Cold   even   to  her,  she  sigli'd ;  and  wlien  she 

saw 
The  hati<'ard  falhcr's  face  and  reverend  beard 


A    M  E  D  LEY 


Of  grislv  twine,  all  dabbled  with  the  blood 
Of  ids  own  son,  siiudder'd,  a  twitch  of  jiain 
Tortured   her  mouth,   and   o'er   her   forehead 

past 
A  shadow,  ami  her  liue  changed,  and  she  said: 
'He  saved  my  life:  my  brother  slew  him 

for  it.' 
No  more ;  at  which  the  king  in  bitter  scorn 
Drew    from-  my    neck    the   ])ainting   and    the 

tress, 
And  held  them  iij).     She  saw  thrni,  and  a  day 
Rose   from  the   distance   on   her   memory. 
When  the  good  queen,  her  mclher,  shore  the 

tress 
With   kisses,   ere   the   da^'s   of  I-ady    Blanche. 
And    then    once    more    she   look'd    at    mv    j)ale 

face  : 
Till   understanding   all   the    foclish    work 
Of  Fancy,  and  the  bitter  close  of  all. 
Her  iron  will  was  lu'oken  in  her  mind; 
Her  noble  heart  was  molten  in  lur  breast; 
She  bow'd,  she  set  the  child  on  the  earth:  she 

laid 
A  feelir.g  finger  on  my  brows,  and  presently 
'0  Sire,'  she  said,  'he  lives;  he  is  not  liead  ! 
O,  let  me  have  him  with  my  brethren  here 
In  our  own  palace ;  wo  will  tend  on  him 
Like  one  of  these:   if  so,  by  any   means, 
To    lighten    this    great    clog    oi    thanks,    tiiat 

make 
Our  j)i-ogress  falter  to  the  woman's  goal.' 


Its  bod}',  and  reach  it.s  fatling  innocent  arms 
And  liizy  lingering  fingers.  She  the  appeal 
Brook'd     not,    but     clamoring    out     'Mine — 

mine — not  yours  I 
It  is  not  yours,  but  mine;  give  me  the  child!' 
Ceased  all  on  tremble ;  ])iteous  was  the  cry. 
So   stood   the   iuiliap])y    mother  opcn-month'd. 
And  turn'd  each  face  her  way.    Wan  was  her 

clieek 
Witli  hollow  watcli,  her  blooming  mantle  torn, 
Red  grief  and  mother's  hunger  in  her  eye, 
And    down    dead-heavy    sank    her    curls,    and 

half 
The    sacred    mother's    bosom,    panting,    burst 
The  laces  toward  her  babe;  but  she  nor  cared 
Nor  knew  it.  clamni-ing  on.  till   Ida  lieard, 
Look'd  up,  and  rising  slowly  from  me,  stood 
Erect  and  silent,  striking  with  her  glance 
The  mother,  me.  the  child.     But  he  that  lay 
Beside    us,    Cyril,    batter'd    as    he    was, 
Trail'd  himsill'  u])  on  one  knee:  then  he  drew 
Her    rolie    to    meet    his    lips,    and    down    she 

look'd 
At    the    arm'd    man    sideways,    jiitying    as    it 

seem'd. 
Or  self-involved ;  but  when  she  learnt  his  face, 
Remembering  his   ill-omen'd   song,  arose 
Once  more  thro'  all  her  height,  and  o'er  liim 

grew 
Tall  as  a  figure  lengthen'd  on  the  sand 
When  the  tide  ebbs  in  sunshine,  and  he  said : 


^ 


VFM  W 


e^  ■- 


'^ 


s»^ 


She  said ;  but  at  the  happy  word  'he  lives  !' 
My     father     stooj)'d,     re-fat  her'd     o'er     my 

wounds. 
So  those  two  foes  above  my   fallen  life, 
With   brow  to   brow   like  night  and  evening 

mixt 
Their  dark  and  graj-,  while  Psyche  ever  stole 
A   little  nearer,  till  the  babe  that  by   us, 
Half-lapt  in  glowing  gauze  and  golden  brede. 
Lay  like  a  new-fallen  meteor  on  the  grass, 
Uncand   for,  spied  its  mother  and   began 
A  blind  and  babl)ling  laughter,  and  to  dance 


'O   fair  and   strong   and   terrible !      I^ioncss 
That    with    your    long    locks    J)lay    the    lion's 

mane  ! 
But    Love   and    Nature,    these    are   two    more 

terrible 
And  stronger.     Sec,  your  foot  is  on  our  necks, 
We  vanquish'tl,   you   the  victor  of  your   will. 
What    would    you   more.''    give   her   the   child! 

remain 
Orb'd   in   your   isolation:   he   is   dead, 
Or  all  as  dead:  henceforth  we  let   you  be. 
Win   vou   the    hearts    of   « omen :    and   beware 


THE      PRINCESS 


h. 


Lest,  wlierc  vnu  seek  tlic  coiuiikmi  Invc  of  tlicsc, 
Tlie  cninmoii  hate  witli  the  revolviiifi,-  wlieel 
Should     dra^-     you     down,     .u'.d     some     ^reat 

Nemesis 
Break   from  a  dai'keiiM   futun-,  crow  n'd   with 

five, 
And  tread  you  out  for  ever.     But  liowsoe'er 
Fixt  in  yourself,  never  in  your  own  arms 
To  hold  your  own,  deny   not   hers  to  her. 
Give  her  tlie  ehild  I     ( ).  if,  I  siiy,  you  keep 
One  pulse  th.at  heats  true  woman,  if  you  loved 
The  hreast  tliat  fed  or  arm  that  dandled  you. 
Or  own  one  j)ort  of  sense  not  flint  to  jirayer. 
Give  her  the  ehild!  or  if  you  .scorn  to  lay  it. 
Yourself,  in  hands  so  lately  claspt  with  your.s, 
Or  sjaeak  to  her,  your  dearest,  iier  one   fault 
The  tenderness,  not  yours,  that  could  not  kill, 
Give  me  it ;  /  will  give  it  her.' 

He  said. 
At  first  her  eye  with  slow  dilation  rollM 
Dry  flame,  she  listening:  after  ;  ank  and  sank 
And,  into  mournfvd  twiligjit  mellowing,  dwelt 
Full  (ui  the  child.  She  t.)ok  it:  Tretty  hud! 
Fily     of     the     vale!     lialf-open'd     hell    of    the 

woods ! 
Sole  comfort  of  my  dark  hour,  when  a  world 
Of  traitorous  friend  and  broken  .system  made 
No   j)urple   in   the   distance,   mystery, 
Pled"o  of  a  lo\e  not   to  be  mine,  farewell! 

o 

These  men  are  li.ard  uj)on   us  as  of  old, 
Wc  too  must   p.art  ;   and  yet   how   fain   was   I 
To    dream    thy    cause    embraced    in    mine,    to 

think 
I  might   he  something  to  thee,  when   I   felt 
Tliv  helpless  warmth  about  my  barren  lireast 
In  the  dead  prime;  but  may  thy  mother  prove 
As  true  to  thee  as  false,  false,  false  to  me  ! 
And,   if  tliou   need>   must   bear   the  yoke,   I 

wish  it 
(ientle  as  freedom' — here  she  kiss'd  it  ;  then — ■ 
'AH    good   go   with    liiee  !   take   it,   sir,"   and   so 
Laid   Ihe  soft   balic  in   his  hard-mailed   hands, 
AVlio     turiiM     lialf  round     tu     I'svche     as     she 

siiraiiLT 


To  meet  it,  with  an  eye  that  swum  in  thanks; 
'I'lien    felt    it    sound   and   whole   from   head  to 

foot. 
And     hugg'd     and     never     hugg'd     it     close 

enougli. 
And   in  her  hunger  moutliM  and  nnunbled  it, 
And  hid  her  bosom  with  it;  after  that 
Put  on  more  calm  and  added  suppliantly : 

'We   two   were    friends:   I   go  to   mine  own 

Lund 
For  ever.     Find  some  other;  as  for  me 
I  scarce  am  fit  for  your  great  plans :  yet  speak 

to   me, 
Sav  one  soft  word  and  let  me  part  forgiven.' 

But  Ida  sjjoke  not,  rajjt  upon  the  child. 
Then    Arac:    'Ida — 'sdeath!    you    blame    the 

man  ; 
You  ivrong  yourselves — the  woman  is  so  hard 
T"p(in  the  woman.     Come,  a  grace  to  me! 
I  am   vour  warrior;  I  and  mine  have  fought 
Your  battle.      Kiss   her;   take   her  hand,   she 

weeps. 
"Sdeath  !    I  would  sooner  fight  thrice  o'er  than 

see  it.' 

But    Ida  spoke  not,  gazing  on  the  ground. 
And   reddening  in  the   furrows  of  his  chin. 
And  ved  !)i'yon<i  his  custom,  Gama  said: 

Tve   heard   thai    tliere   is   iron  in  the  blootl. 
And  I  believe  it.     Not  one  word.''  not  one? 
Whence  drew  you  this  steel  temper.''  not 

from  me. 
Not    from    your    mother,    now    a    saint    with 

saints. 
She  said  vnu  had  a  heart  —  I  lieard  her  s;iy  it — ■ 
"Our   Ida  has  a   lie.art" — just  ere  she  died — 
"But    see    that    some   one   with   authority 
Be  near  lier  still;"  and  I — I  .•-'ought  for  one — 
All    ])eo|ile   said    she   had   aulliority — 
The    Lady    IJlanehe—  nuicli    profit!     Not    one 

woi'd  ; 


A    M  ED  LEY 


No  !  tho'  your  futlicr  sues.     See  liow  you  stand 
Stiff  as  Lot's  wife,  aiiil  all  the  ^ood   kniylits 

maini'd, 
I  trust  that  tlicre  is  no  one  liurt  to  deatli. 
For  your  wild  whim.      And   was  it  then   for 

tliis, 
Was   it   for  tliis  we  gave  our  pidace  up, 
WTiere  we  witlidrcw   from   summer   heats  and 

state. 
And    liad    our    wine    and    clicss    bencatii    the 

planes, 
And   many   a   pleasant   hour   with   her   tliat's 

gone, 
Ere  you  were  born  to  vex  us?     Is  it   kind? 
Speak  to  her,  I  say;  is  this  not  she  of  whom. 
When    first    slie    came,    all    fiushVl    you    said 

to  me. 
Now  had  you  got  a  friend  of  3'our  own  age, 
Now    could    you    share    your    thought,    now 

should  men  see 
Two  women   faster  welded  in  one  love 
Than  pairs  of  wedlock?  she  you  walkM  with, 

she 
Ycu  talk'd  with,  whole  nights  long,  up  in  the 

tower, 
Of  sine  and  arc,  spheroid  and  azimuth. 
And  right  ascension,  heaven  knows  what :  and 

now 
A   word,  hut  one.  one  little  kindly   word, 
Not  one  to  spare  her.     Out  upon  you.  flint  ! 
You  love  nor  her,  nor  me,  nor  any  ;  nav, 
You     shame     vour     mother's     judgment     too. 

Not  one? 
You   will    not?    well — no    h.eart    liave    you,    or 

sucli 
As  fancies  like  the  vermin  in  a  nut 
Have  fretted  all  to  dust  and  bitterness.' 
So  said  the  small  king  moved  beyond  his  wont. 

Rut    Ida   stood   nor  spoke,   drainM   of   her 
force 
By  manv'  a  varving  influence  and  so  long. 
Down    thro"    her    limbs    a    drooping    languor 
wept ; 


Her  head  a  little  bent  ;  and  on  iier  mouth 
A    doul)tful   smile   d"elt    like  a   clouded   moon 
In  a  still  water.     Then  brake  out  my  sire. 
Lifting    his    griUi    head     from    niv    wounds: 

'O  you. 
Woman,  whom  we  thought  woman  even  now, 
And  were  half  fool'd  to  let  you  ti'ud  our  son. 
Because  he  might  have  wish'd  it — but  we  see 
The  accomjilice  of  your  madness  unforgivcn. 
And  tiiink   that   you  might   mix  his  draught 

with  death. 
When  your  skies  change  again  :  the  rougher 

hand 
Is  safer.    On  to  the  tents;  take  U2J  the  I'rince.' 

He  rose,  and  while  each  ear  was  |)rick'd  to 
attend 
A   tempest,   thro'    the   cloud    that   dinmi'd   her 

broke 
A    cenial    warmth    and    lijrht    once    nun'e,   and 

shone 
Thro'  glittering  drops  on  her  sad  friend. 

'Come  hither, 

0  Psyche,'  she  cried  out,  embrace  me,  come, 
(,)uick  while  I  melt;  make  reconcilement  sure 
With  one  that  cannot  keep  l;er  nuiid 

an  hour; 
Come  to  the  hollow  heart   tliey   slander  so! 
Kiss  and  be  friends,  like  children  being  chid! 
/  seem  no  more,  /  want   forgiveness  too  ; 

1  should  have  had  to  do  with  none  but  maids. 
That  have  no  links  with  men.     Ah  false  but 

dear. 
Dear  traitor,  too  much  loved,  why? — why? — ■ 

yet  see 
Before  these  kings  we  embrace  you  yet  once 

more 
With  all  forgiveness,  all  oblivion. 
And  trust,  not  love,  you  less. 

And  now.  O  Sire, 
Grant  me  your  son,   to   nurse,  to  wait   upon 

him, 
I>ike  mine  own  brother.     For  my  debt  to  him, 
This  nightmare  weight  of  gratitude,  I  know  it. 


THE     P  RIN  CESS 


Taunt  nie  no  more;  yourself  and  yours  shall 

have 
Free  aclit ;  we  will  scatter  all  our  maids 
Till  ha])picr  times  each  to  her  proper  hearth. 
What  use  to  keej)  tlieni  here — now?  grant  my 

prayer. 
Hel]).    father,    hrothcr,    heljJ ;    speak    to    the 

king; 
Thaw  this  male  nature  to  some  touch  of  that 
Which   kills   me   with   myself,   and   drags   me 

down 
From  my  tixt  lieight  to  mob  nie  up  witii  all 
The  soft  and  milky  rabble  of  womankind, 
Poor  weakling  even   as  they  are.' 

Passionate  tears 
Follow'd  ;  the  king  replied  not ;  C'vi'il  said  : 
'Your  brother,  lady, — Florian, — a.sk   for  him 
Of  your  great  Head — for  he  is  wounde<l  too — • 
That    you    nia^'    tend    u])on    him    with    the 

Prince.' 
'Ay,  so,'  said  Ida  with  a  bitter  smile, 
'Our  laws  are  broken  ;  let  him  enter  too. 
Then  A'iolet,  she  that  sang  the  mournful  song, 
And   iiad   a   cou>in    hmiiiied   on   the   phun, 
Petition'd  too  for  him.     'Ay,  so,'  she  said, 
'I  stagger  in   the  stream;  I  cannot  keep 
My  heart  an  eddy   from  the  brawling  hour. 
We  break   our  laws  with  ease,  but   let    it   be.' 
'Ay,  so.'''  said  Blanche:  'Amazed  am  I  to  hear 
Your   Highness;   but    your   Highness   breaks 

with  ease 
The  law  your  Highness  diil  not  make  ;  "twas  I. 
I  had  been  wedded  wife.  I  knew  mankind. 
And  ])lock"d  them  out;  but  these  men  came  to 

woo 
Your  Highness, — verily   I  think  to  win.' 

So   she,   and   tui'n'd   askance  a   wintry  eye; 
But  Ida,  witii  a  voice  that,  hke  a  bell 
Toll'd  by  an  earthquake  in  a  trembling  tower, 
Rang  ruin,  answer'd  full  of  grief  and  scorn; 

'Fling  our  doors  wide!  all,  all,  not  one,  but 
all, 


Not  onJv  he,  but  by  my  mother's  soul. 
Whatever  man  lies  wouniU'd,  friend  or  foe. 
Shall   enter,   if   he  will!     Let   our  girls   flit. 
Till  the  .storm  die!  l)ut  liad  you  stood  bv  us, 
The    I'oar   that    jjreaks    the    Pharos    from   his 

base 
Had   lift   us  rock.      She  fain  would  sting  us 

too. 
But   shall  not.      Pass,  and  mingle  with  your 

likes. 
We  brook  no  further  insult,  but  are  gone.' 


She  turn'd  :  the  very  nape  of  her  white  neck 
Was  rosed  with  indignation:  but  the  Prince 
Her     lirother    came:     the     king    her     father 

charm'd 
Her  wounded  soul  with  words ;  nor  did  mine 

own 
Refuse  her  proffer,  lastly  gave  his  hand. 


Then  us  they  lifted  up,  dead  weights,  and 

bare 
Straight  to  the  doors ;  to  them  the  doors  gave 

way 
Groaning,  and  in  the  vestal  entry  shriek'd 
The   \irgiii    niariile   under   iron   heels. 
And  on  thi'V  moved  and  gain'd  the  hall  and 

there 
Rested :   but   great   tlie  crusli   wa.s,   and  each 

base. 
To    left    and    right,    of    those    tall    columns 

drown'd 
In  silken  fluctuation  and  the  swann 
Of  female  whispers.      At   the   further  end 
Wa.s  Ida  bv  the  throne,  the  two  great  cats 
Close  by  her,  like  supj)orter~-  on  a  shield, 
Bow-backM  with  fear;  but  in  the  centre  stood 
The  common  men  with  rolling  eyes  :  amazed 
'i'hcy  glared  upon  the  women,  and   aghast 
The  women   stared  at   these,  all   silent,  save 
When    armor    clash'd    or    jingled,    while    the 

(lav. 


A    MED  LEY 


I 


Descending,  struck  athwart  the  hall  and  shot 
A  flying  splendor  out  of  brass  and  steel, 
That  o'er  the  statues  leapt  from  head  to  liead, 
Now  fired  an  angry  Pallas  on  the  iielm. 
Now  set  a  wrathful  Dian's  moon  on  flame ; 
And  now  and  tlien  an  eclio  started  up. 
And  shuddering  fled  from  room  to  room,  and 

died 
Of  fright  in  far  apartments. 

Tlien  the  voice 
Of  Ida  sounded,  issuing  ordinance ; 
And  me  they  bore  up  the  broad  stairs,  and 

thro' 


Tiie  long-laid  galleries  past  a  hundred  doors 
To  one  deep  chamber  shut   from  sound,  and 

due 
To  languid  limbs  an<l  .sickness,  left  me  in  it; 
And  othci-s  otlierwiiere  tiiey   laid  ;  and  all 
Tl)at   afternoon   a   sound   arose  of  hoof 
And  cliariot,  many  a  maiden  passing  home 
Till     happier    times;     but    .some    were    left 

of  tiiose 
Held  sagest,  and  the  great  lords  out  anil  in. 
From  those  two  hosts  that  lay  beside  the  wall, 
Walk'd    at    their    will,    and    everything    was 

changed. 


—  llM,<rli(!WM1irv^rv,C 


SONG 


A^k  UK'  no  more:  tlic  moon  may  draw  the  sea; 
Tile  clcud  may  stoojj  from  lieavcn  and  take 
tlie  shape, 


Ask  nic  no  more:  the  moon  may  draw  the  sea; 
Tlie  cloud  may  stoop  from  b.eaven  and  take 

the  slia])c, 
With  fold  to  fold,  of  mountain  or  of  cape; 
But  O  too  fond,  when  have  I  answer'd  thee? 
Ask  me  no  more. 

Ask  me  no  more:  what  answer  should  I  give? 
I  love  not  liollow  clieek  or  faded  eye : 
Yet,  0  my  friend,  I  will  not  have  thee  die! 

Ask  me  no  more,  lest  I  should  l)i(l  thee  live; 
Ask  me  no  more. 

Ask  me  no  more:  thy  fate  and  mine  are  seal'd; 

I  strove  against  the  stream  and  all  in  vain ; 

Let  the  great  river  take  me  to  tiic  main. 
No  more,  dear  love,  for  at  a  touch  I  yield ; 
Ask  me  no  more. 


,  _^,mM>\\t\\.'i\:U-^^a\n 


PART        SEVEN 


•^«^.. 


^&t.x^S\r 


VfM 


P  A  RT       S  EVEN 


So   was   their   sanctuai\y   violatid. 
So  their  I'air  colkoe  turii'd   to  hi^pital, 
At  first  with  all  confusion ;   by   and  bj' 
Sweet  order  lived  again  with  other  laws, 
A   kindlier  influence  reign'd,  and  cver3'where 
Low  voices  with  the  ministering  hand 
Hung   round   the   sick.      The   maidens   came, 

they  talk'd, 
TJiey  sang,  they  read;  till  she  not  fair  began 
To  gather  lieht,  and  she  that  was  became 
Her  former  beauty  treble;  and  to  and  fro 
With  books,  with  flowers,  with  angel  offices, 
Like  creatures  native  unto  gracious  act. 
And  in  their  own  clear  element,  they  moved. 

But  sadness   on   the  soul  of  Ida   fell. 
And    liatred    of    licr    weakness,    blent    with 

shame. 
Old  studies  fail'd ;  seldom  she  spoke :  but  oft 


C.lomb  to  the  roofs,  and  gazed  alone  for  hours 
On  that  disastrous  leaguer,  swarms  of  men 
Darkening   her    female   field.      Void   was   her 

use, 
And  she  as  one  that  climbs  a  peak  to  gaze 
O'er  land    and   main,  and   sees   a   great   black 

cloud 
Drag  inward  from  the  deeps,  a  wall  of  night, 
Blot  out  the  slope  of  sea  from  verge  to  shore, 
And    suck    tile    blinding    splendor    from    the 

sand. 
And  quenching  lake  by  lake  and  tarn  by  tarn 
Expunge    the    world ;    so    fared    she    gazing 

there. 
So  blackcn'd  all  her  world  in  secret,  blank 
And  waste  it  seem'd  and  vain;  till  down  she 

came. 
And   found  fair  peace  once  more  among  the 

sick. 


THE      P  RI  N  CESS 


(i.  I' 


Anil  t\vilif;lit   dawiiM;  aiul  morn  by  morn 

the  lark 
Shot  up  and  shrillM  in  flickering  gyres,  but  I 
Lay  silent  in  the  niutHed  cage  of  life. 
And  twilight  gloom'd,  and  broader-grown  the 

bowers 
Drew    the    great    night    into   themselves,    and 

iicaven, 
Star  after  star,  arose  and   fell  i  but  I, 
Deeper   tlian   those   weird   doubts   could  reach 

me,  lay 
Quite  sunder'd  from  the  moving  Universe, 
Nor  knew  what  eye  was  on  nie,  nor  the  hand 
That  nursed  me,  more  than  infants  in  their 

sleep. 

But   Psyche  tended   Florian ;  with  her  oft 
iMelissa  came,  for  Blanche  had  gone, 

but  left 
Her  child  among  us,  willing  she  should  keep 
Court-favor.     Here  and  there  the  small  bright 

head, 
A  light  of  healing,  glanced  about  the  couch, 
Or  thro'  the  25artcd  silks  the  tender  face 
Pecp'd,  shining  in  upon  the  woiuided  man 
With    blush    and    smile,    a    medicine    in    them- 
selves 
To   wile   the   length    from    languorous   hours, 

and  draw 
Tile  sting  from   j)ain ;   nor  seem'd   it  strange 

that  soon 
He  rose  up  whole,  and   Ihose   tair  charities 
Join'd  at  her  side;  nor  stranger  seem'd  that 

hearts 
So  gentle,  so  cmploy'd,  sl.-iuld  close  in  love, 
Tiian  when  two  dewdro|is  on  tlie  j)etal  shake 
To  the   same   sweet   air,   and    tremble   deeper 

down. 
And  slip  at  once  all-fragrant  into  one. 

Less  pros])erously  the  second  suit   obtain'd 
At  first  with  Psyche.     Not  tho'  Blanciie  had 

sworn 
That  after  that  dark   night   among  the  fields 


She   needs   must  wed  him   for  her  own   good 

name ; 
Not  tho'  he  built  upon  the  babe  restored; 
Not  tho'  she  liked  him,  yielded  she,  but  fear'd 
To  incense  the  Head  once  more ;  till  on  a  clay 
When    Cyril    pleaded,    Ida    came    beliind 
Seen  but  of  Psj-chc ;  on  her  foot  she  hung 
A  moment,  and  she  lieard,  at  which  her  face 
A  little  flush'd,  and  she  past  on;  but  each 
Assumed  from  thence  a  half-consent  involved 
In  stillness,  plighted  troth,  and  were  at  peace. 

Nor  only  these;  Love  in  the  sacred  halls 
Held   carni\al   at   will,  and   flying  struck 
Witli  showers  of  ranilom  sweet  on  maid  and 

man. 
Nor  did  her  father  cease  to  press  my  claim, 
Nor  did  mine  own  now  reconciled;  nor  yet 
Did    those    twin    brothers,    risen    again    and 

whole ; 
Nor    Arac,    satiate   witli    his    victory. 

But  I  lay  .still,  and  with  me  oft  she  sat. 
Then  came  a  change ;  for  sometimes  I  « ouki 

catch 
Her  hand  in  wild  delirium,  gripe  it  hard, 
And  fling  it  like  a  viper  ofl^,  and  shriek, 
'You   are    not   Ida ;'   clasp   it   once  again, 
And  call  her  Ida,  tho'  I  knew  her  not. 
And  call  her  swtet,  as  if  in  irony. 
And   call   her  hard   and   cold,  which   seem'd  a 

truth; 
And    still    she   fear'd   that    I    should   lose   my 

mind. 
And   often  she  believed  that  I  should  die; 
Till  out   of  long  frustration  of  her  care. 
And  ])c'iisivc  tendance  in  the  all-weary  noons. 
And    watches    in    the    <lead.    the    dark,    when 

clocks 
ThrobbM    timnder  thro'   the   ])alace   flocn-s,  or 

caird 
On  flving  Time  from  all  their  silver  tongues — 
And   iinl   of  memories  of  lur  kindlier  days. 
And  sidelong  glances  at  my  fatliei-*s  grief. 


icnoiu.  coi\rua 


A   MEDLEY 


Ami  ;it  tlie  happy  lovers  heart  in  heart — 
And  out  of  hauntings  of  my  spoken  love, 
And  lonely  listenings  to  my  mutter'd  dream, 
And  often  feeling  of  the  helpless  hands, 
And  wordless  broodings  on  the  wasted  cheek — - 
From  all  a  closer  interest  flourihliM  u]). 
Tenderness  touch  by  touch,  and  last,  to  these. 
Love,  like  an  Alpine  harebell  hung  with  tears 
By  some  cold  morning  glacier;  frail  at  first 
And  feeble,  all  unconscious  of  itself, 
But   such  as  gather'd  color  day  by  day. 

Last    I    woke    sane,    but    well-nigh    close    to 

death 
For  weakness.     It  was  evening;  silent  light 
Slept    on    the    painted    walls,    wherein    were 

wrought 
Two  grand  designs ;  for  on  one  side  arose 
The  women  up  in  wild  revolt,  anil  storm'd 
At    the    Oppian    law.      Titanic    shapes,    they 

crannn'd 
The  forum,  and  half-cruslTd  among  the  rest 
A  dwarf-like  Cato  cower'd.    On  the  other  side 
Hortensia   spoke  against   the   tax;   behiTid, 
A  train  of  dames.     By  axe  and  eagle  sat, 
With    all    their    foreheads    drawn    in    Roman 

scowls. 
And    half    the    wolf's-milk    curdled    in    their 

veins. 
The  fierce  triumvirs  ;  and  before  them  paused 
Hortensia,  pleading;  angry  '-vas  her  face. 

I  saw  the  forms ;  I  knew  not  where  I  was. 
They  did  but  look  like  hollow  shows ;  nor  more 
Sweet  Ida.     Palm  to  palm  she  sat ;  the  dew 
Dwelt  in  her  eyes,  and  softer  all  her  shape 
And   rounder  .secm'd.      I   moved,   I  sigh'd;  a 

touch 
Came   round    my    wrist,   and   tears    upon    my 

hand. 
Then  all   for  languor  and  self-pity  r.in 
Mine  down  my  face,  and  with  what  life  I  had. 
And  like  a  flower  that   camiot  all  luifold, 
So  drench'd  it  is  with  tempest,  to  the  siui, 


Yet,  as  it  may,  turns  toward  him,  I  on  her 
Fixt  my  faint  eyes,  and  utter'd  whisperingly : 

'If  you  be   what  I  think  you,  some  sweet 
dream, 
I  would  but  ask  you  to  fulfil  yourself; 
But  if  you  be  that  Ida  whom  I  knew, 
I  ask  _vou  nothing;  only,  if  a  dream, 
Sweet  dream,  be  perfect.     I  shall  die  to-night. 
Stooj)  down  and  seem  to  kiss  me  ere  I  the.' 

I  could  no  more,  but  lay  like  one  in  trance, 
That  hears  his  burial  talk'd  of  by  his  friends, 
xVnd   I'aiuiot   speak,   nor  move,   nor  make  one 

sign. 
But    lies    and    di'eads   his   doom.      She   turn'd, 

she  paused, 
She  stoop'd  ;  and  out  of  languor  lea{)f  a  cry. 
Leapt  fiery  Passion  from  the  brinks  of  death, 
And  I  believed  that  in  the  living  world 
]\Iy  spirit  closed  with  Ida's  at  the  lips; 
Till  back  I  fell,  and  from  mine  arms  she  rose 
Glowing  all  over  noble  shame;  antl  all 
Her  falser  self  slipt  from  her  like  a  robe. 
And  left  her  woman,  lovelier  in  her  mood 
Tlian  in  her  mould  that  other,  when  she  came 
From  barren  deeps  to  conquer  all  with  love, 
And  down  the  streaming  crystal  drojit ;  and 

she 
Far-fleeted  by  the  purple  island-sides. 
Naked,  a  double  light  in  air  and  wave. 
To  meet  her  Graces,  where  they  deck'd  her  out 
For   worship   without   end — nor  end   of   mine. 
Stateliest,  for  thee !  but  mute  she  glided  forth. 
Nor  glanced  behind  her,  and  I  sank  and  slept, 
Fiird  thro'  and  thro'  with  love,  a  happy  sleep. 

Deep   in   the  night  I  woke:  she,  near  me, 
held 
A  vohnne  of  the  poets  of  her  land. 
There  to  herself,  all  in  low  tones,  she  read: 

'Now    sleeps    th.e    crimson    petal,    now    the 
white  ; 


vy,,;s.  V 


THE     PRIN  CESS 


Nor  waves  the  cypress  in  the  palace  walk; 
Nor  winks  the  gold  fin  in  the  jjorphyr}'  font. 
The  fire-fly  wakens;  waken  tliou  with  nie. 

'Now  droops  the  niilk-whitu  peacock  like  a 
ghost, 
And  like  a  ghost  she  glinnHLrs  on  to  me. 

'Now  lies  the  Earth  all  Danae  to  the  stars, 
And  all  thy  heart  lies  open  unto  me. 

'Now  slidus  the  silent  meteor  on,  and  leaves 
A  shining  furrow,  as  thy  thoughts  in  me. 

'Now  folds  the  lily  all  her  sweetness  up, 
And  slips  into  the  bosom  of  the  lake. 
So  fold  thy.self,  my  dearest,  thou,  and  slip 
Into  my  bosom  anil  be  lost  in  me.' 

I  heard   her   turn    the   page ;   she   found   a 
small 
Sweet  idyl,  and  once  more,  as  low,  she  read: 

'Come  down,  0  maid,  from  yonder  mountain 

height. 
What   pleasure  lives  in  height    (the  shepherd 

sang). 
In  height  and  cold,  the  sj)lentlor  of  the  hills? 
But  cease  to  move  so  near  the  heavens,  and 

cease 
To  glide  a  sunbeam  by  the  blasted  }>ine, 
To  sit  a  .star  upon  the  sparkling  spire; 
And  come,  for  Love  is  of  the  valley,  come, 
For  Love  is  of  the  vallc}',  come  thou  down 
And  find  him ;  by  the  happy  threshold,  he. 
Or  hand  in  hand  with  Plenty  in  tlie  maize, 
Or   n'd   with   spirtt'd   pui-ple  of   the   vats. 
Or  foxlike  in  the  vine ;  nor  cares  to  walk 
With    Death    and     Morning    on    the    Silver 

Horns, 
Nor  wilt   tliou  snare  him   in   tju'   uhitr  ravine. 
Nor  (iiid  liim  dropt  ui>i)n  tlic  firths  of  nx\ 
That    huddling    slant    in    tiirrow-cloven    falls 
To  roll  the  torrent  out  of  dusky  doors. 


But  follow ;  let  the  torrent  dance  thee  down 
To  find  him  in  the  valley  ;  let  the  wild 
Lean-headed  eagles  yelp  alone,  and  leave 
The  monstrous  ledges  there  to  slope,  and  .sjjill 
Their   thousand   wreaths   of   dangling  water- 
smoke. 
That  like  a  broken  purpose  waste  in  air. 
So  waste  not  thou,  but  come ;  for  all  the  vales 
Await  thee;  azure  ]iillars  of  the  hearth 
Arise  to  thee:  the  children  call,  and  I 
Thy  shejjherd  pij)e,  and  swtet  is  every  sound. 
Sweeter  thy  voice,  but  every  sound  is  sweet ; 
Myriads  of  rivulets  hurrying  thro'  the  lawn. 
The  moan  of  doves  in  innnemorial  elms, 
And  nuu'nuiring  of  imuimerable  bees.' 

So  she  low-toned,  while  with  shut  eyes  I  lay 
Listening,  then  look'd.     Pale  was  the  perfect 

face  ; 
The  bosom  with  long  .sighs  labor'd ;  and  meek 
Seem'd  the  full  lips,  and  mild  the  luminous 

eyes. 
And  the  voice  trembled  and  the  hand.      She 

said 
Brokenly,  that  she  knew  it,  she  had  fail'd 
In  sweet  humility,  had  fail'd  in  all : 
That   all  her  labor  was  but  as  a  block 
Left  in  the  quarry:  but  she  still  were  loth, 
She  still  were  loth  to  yield  herself  to  one 
That  wholly  scorn'd  to  help  tlieir  equal  rights 
Against  the  sons  of  men  and  barbaroas  laws. 
She  }n-ay"<l  me  not  to  judge  their  cause  from 

her 
That    wrong'd   it,   sought    far  less   for  truth 

than  power 
In    knowledge.       Something    wild    within    her 

breast, 
A  greater  than  all  knowledge,  beat  her  down. 
And   she   had    nursed   me  there   from   week  to 

week  ; 
Much   had   she  learnt   in   little  time.      In  jjart 
It   was   ill   counsel   had   misled   tlir   girl 
To  vex  true  hearts :  yet  was  she  l)ut:  -a  girl — 
'Ah  fool,  and  made  myself  a  queen  of  farce! 


A    M  E  D  LEY 


When  comes  another  such?  never,  I  think, 
Till  the  sun  droj),  dead,  from  the  signs.' 

Her  voice 
Qiokcd,    and    her    forehead    sank    upon    her 

hands. 
And  her  great  heart  thro'  all  the  fault  ful  past 
Went  sorrowing  in  a  pause  I  tlared  not  hreak; 
Till  notice  of  a  change  in  the  dark  world 
Was  lispt  about  the  acacias,  and  a  bird, 
That  early  woke  to  feed  her  little  ones, 
Sent  from  a  dewy  breast  a  cry  for  light. 
She  moved,  and  at  her  feet  the  volume  fell. 

'Blame  not  thyself  too  much,'  I  said,  'nor 

blame 
Too    much    the    sons    of   men    and   barbarous 

laws ; 
These  were  the  rough  ways  of  the  workl  till 

now. 
Henceforth  thou  hast  a  helper,  me,  that  know 
The  woman's  cause  is  man's;  they  rise  or  sink 
Together,  dwarf'd  or  godlike,  bond  or  free. 
For  she  that  out  of  Lethe  scales  with  man 
The    shining    steps    of    Nature,    shares    with 

man 
His  nights,  his  days,  moves  with  him  to  one 

goal. 
Stays  all  the  fair  young  planet  in  lier  hands — 
If  she  be  small,  slight-natured.  miserable. 
How  shall  men  grow.''  but  work  no  more  alone 
Our  place  is  nuich ;  as  far  as  in  us  lies 
We  two  will  serve  them  both  in  aiding  her — 
Will  clear  away  the  parasitic  forms 
That    seem    to    keep    her    up    but    drag    her 

down — 
Will  leave  her  space  to  burgeon  out  of  all 
Within    her — let    her   make    herself   her    own 
To  give  or  keep,  to  live  and  learn  and  be 
All  that  not  harms  distinctive  womanhood. 
For  woman  is  not  undevclopt  man. 
But  diverse.     Could  we  make  her  as  the  man, 
Sweet  Love   were   slain ;   his   dearest   bond   is 

this, 
Not  like  to  like,  but  like  in  difference. 


Vet   in   the"  long  vears  liker  must   thev  grow ; 
The  man  Ik'  more  of  woman,  she  of  man  ; 
He  gain  in  sweetness  and  in  moral  height. 
Nor  lose  the  wrestling  thews  that  throw  the 

world ; 
She  mental  breadth,  nor  fail  in  cliildward  care, 
Nor  lose  the  ciiildlike  in  the  larger  mind; 
Till  at  the  last  .she  set  herself  to  man. 
Like  perfect  music  unto  noble  words ; 
And  so  these  twain,  iij)on  the  skirts  of  Time, 
Sit    side    by    side,    fiill-sunnu'd    in    all    their 

powers. 
Dispensing  harvest,  sowing  the  to-be, 
Self-reverent  each  and  reverencing  each, 
Distinct  in  iiidi\  idualities. 
But  like  each  other  even  as  those  who  love. 
Then  come.s  the  statelier  Eden  back  to  men ; 
Then  reign  the  world's  great  bridals,  chaste 

and  calm ; 
Then   springs   the   crowning  race  of  human- 
kind. 
May  these  things  be!' 

Sighing  she  spoke :     T  fear 
They   will   not.' 

'Dear,  but  let  us  t_ype  them  now 
In  our  own  lives,  and  this  proud  watchword 

rest 
Of  equal ;  seeing  either  sex  alone 
Is  half  itself,  and  in  true  marriage  lies 
Nor  equal,  nor  uneijual.      Each  fulfils 
Defect     in     each,     and     always     thought      in 

thought. 
Purpose  in  purpose,  will   in   will,  they  grow. 
The  single  pure  and  perfect  animal, 
The  two-cell'd  heart  beating,    with    one    full 

stroke. 
Life.' 

And  again  sighing  she  spoke:  'A  dream 
That    once    was    nu'ne !    what    woman    taught 

you  this.'" 

'Alone,'  I  said,  'frnm  earlier  than  I  know, 
Innncrscd  in  rich  f(n-esliadowings  of  the  world, 
I  loved  the  woman.     lie,  that  doth  not,  lives 


THE      P  RIN  CESS 


A  drowning  life,  besotted  in  sweet  self. 

Or  jiines  in  sail  experience  worse  than  (le.itli. 

Or    keeps    his    wing'd    affectrons    clipt    with 

crime. 
Yet  was  tliere  one  thro'  whom  I  lovid  hrr,  one 
Not   learned,  save   in   gi'ucioiis   household 

ways, 
Not  perfect,  nay.  hut  full  of  tenck^r  wants, 
No  angel,  hut  a  dearer  being,  all  dipt 
In  angel  instincts,  breathing  Paradise, 
Interpreter  between  the  gods  and  men. 
Who  look'd  all  native  to  her  jjlace,  and  yet 
Oil   tiptoe  sccniM  to  touch  ujion  a  s])hcrc 
Too  gross  to  tread,  and  all   male   minds   per- 
force 
Sway'd    to    her    from    their    orbits     as    they 

moved, 
And   girdled   hei'   with   nuisie.      Happv   he 
With  such  a  mother!  faith  in   womankind 
Beats  with  his  blood,  and   trust   in  all  things 

high 
Comes  easy  to  him,  and  tho'  he  trij)  and  fall 
He  shall  not  blind  liis  soul  with  clay.' 

'But  I,' 
Said  Ida,  tremulously,  'so  all  unlike — 
It    seems    you    love    to    cheat    yourself    with 

words : 
This  mother  is  your  model.     I  have  heard 
Of  your  strange  doubts;  they  well  might  be; 

I  seem 
A   mockery   to   my  own   self.      Never,   Prince ! 
You  cannot  love  me.' 

"Nay,  but  thee,'  I  said, 
'From  yearlong  poring  on  thy  pictured  eyes, 


Ere    seen    I   loved,   and    loved    thee   seen,   and 

saw 
Thee  woman  thro'  the  crust  of  iron  moods 
Tha!    mask'd    iliee    from    men's    revei'ence   up, 

and  forced 
Sweet  love  on  jjranks  of  saucy  boyhood ;  now. 
Given  back  to  life,  to  life  indeed,  tiu-o'  thee. 
Indeed  I  love.  The  new  day  comes,  tlie  light 
Dearer  for  night,  as  dearer  thou  for  faults 
Li\ed  o^•er.      Lift   thine  eyes;   my   doubts  are 

dead, 
My     haunting    sense    of    hollow    siiows;    the 

change. 
This    truthful    change    in    thee   has    kill'd    it. 

Dear, 
Look  uj),  and  lit   thy  nature  strike  on  mine, 
Like  yonder  morning  on  the  blind  halfworld. 
Appro:ieli    ami    fear    not:    breathe    u])on    my 

iirows  ; 
In  that  fine  air  I  tiemble,  all  the  past 
Alelts  mist-like  into  this  bright  liour,  and  this 
Is  morn  to  more,  and  all   the  rich  to-come 
lieels,   as  the  goklen   Autumn   wooilland   reels 
Athwart   the   smoke  of  liurning   weeds.      For- 

givr    me, 
I  waste  my  heart   in  signs;  let   be.     My  bride, 
;\Iy  wife,  my  life!     O,  we  will  walk  this  world, 
Yoked   in   all   exercises   of   noble   end. 
And  so  thro'   those  dark  gates  acniss  the  wild 
That    no    man    knows.      Indeed    I    love   thee; 

come. 
Yield  thyself  up;  my  liojies  and  thine  are  oni  . 
Aceomplish    thou    my    manhood    and    thyself; 
Lay  thy  sweet  hands  in  mine  and  trust  to  me." 


1    I' 


CONCLUSION 


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CONCLUSION 


So  closed  our  tale,  of  which  I  give  you  all 
Tlie  random  scheme  as  wildly  as  it  rose. 
The   words    are   mostly    mine ;    for   wlien   we 

ceased 
Tliere   came   a    minute's    pause,   and   Walter 

said, 
'I  wish  she  had  not  yielded  !'  then  to  me, 
'What  if  you  drest  it  up  poetically!' 
So  pray'd  the  men,  the  women ;  I  gave  assent. 
Yet  how  to  bind  tlic  scatter'd  scheme  of  seven 
Together  in  one  sheaf.''     What  style  could 

suit? 
The  men  required  that  I  should  give  through- 
out 
The  sort  of  mock-heroic  gigantcsquc, 
With  which  we  banter'd  little  Lilia  first ; 
The    women — and    perhaps    they    felt    their 

power. 
For  something  in  the  ballads  which  they  sang, 
Or  in  their  silent  influence  as  they  sat. 


Had  ever  seem'd  to  wrestle  with  burlesque. 
And  drove  us,  last,  to  quite  a  solenm 

close — 
They    hated    banter,    wish'd    for    something 

real, 
A  gallant  fight,  a  noble  prince — why 
Not  make  her  true-heroic — true  sublime? 
Or  all,  they  said,  as  earnest  as  the  close? 
Which    yet    with    such    a    framework    scarce 

could  be. 
Then  rose  a  little  feud  betwixt  the  two. 
Betwixt  the  mockers  and  the  realists ; 
And    I,    betwixt    them    both,    to    jjlease    them 

both. 
And  yet  to  give  the  story  as  it  rose, 
I  moved  as  in  a  strange  diagonal. 
And  maybe  neither  jileased  myself  nor  them. 

But  Lilia  pleased  me,  for  she  took  no  part 
In  our  dispute ;  the  sequel  of  the  tale 


THE      PRINCESS 


Had  touflrd  lirr.  aiul  slic  sat,  slic  jiIuckM  the 

grass, 
She  flung  it  from  her,  thinking;  but,  slie  fixt 
A  sliowcry  glance  upon  her  aunt,  and  said, 
'You — tell  us  what  ue  are' — who  might  have 

told, 
For    she    was    rrannnM    with    theories    out    of 

books, 
But  that  tlicre  rose  a  shout.     The  gate.s  were 

closed 
At  sunset,  and  the  crowd  were  swarming  now. 
To  take  tlieir  leave,  ai)out  the  gal'den   rails. 

So  I  and  some  went  out  to  these;  we  climb'd 
The  slope  to  ^'ivian-]llace,  and  turning  saw 
The  liapi)\-  valleys,  half  in  light,  and  half 
Far-shadowing  from  the  west,  a  land  of  peace; 
Gray  halls  alone  anunig  their  massive  groves; 
Trim  hamlet.s ;  here  and  there  a  rustic  tower 
Half-lost    in    belts    of    hop    and    In-eadths    of 

wheat ; 
The   shinnnering   glimpses  of   a   stream;    the 

seas  ; 
A   red  sail,  or  a  white;  and   far  btyond, 
Imagined    more     than     seen,     the    skirts     of 

Franco. 

"Look   there,  a   garden  !'     said     my     college 

friend, 
Tlie  Tory  member's  elder  son,  'and  there! 
God  bless  the  narrow  sea  which  kee])s  her  off. 
And  keeps  ouv  Britain,  whole  wi'.tliin   herself, 
A    nation    yet,   the   rulers   and    the   nded — 
Some  sense  of  duty,  something  of  a   faith, 
Some    reverence    for    the    laws    oui'selves    have 

made. 
Some   patient   force   to  I'hangc    them   when   we 

will. 
Some  civic  manhood  finii  against  the  crowd — 
But   yoiulei'.  whilf!  there  comes  a  >ndden  heat. 
The  gravest  citi/en   seems   to   lose   hi>   head. 
The  king  is  scared,  the  soldiei-  will  nut   fight, 
I'he    little   hoys   begin    to   >hool    and    stab, 
A   kingdom   topples  over  with  a  shi'iek 


Like  an  old  woman,  and  down  rolls  the  world 
In   mock   heroics  stranger  than  our  own; 
Revolts,   rc])ul)lics,  revolutions,  most 
No  gi'aver  than  a  schoolboys'  barring  out; 
Too  comic  for  the  solenni  things  tliey  are, 
'1  oo  solemn   for  the  comic  touches  in  them. 
Like  our  wild  Princess  with  as  wise  a  dream 
As  some  of  theirs — (jod  bless  the  narrow  seas! 
I  wish  they  were  a  whole  Atlantic  broad.' 

'Ha\i-    patience,'    I    replied,    'our.selvcs    are 
full 
Of   social   wrong;   and   maybe  wildest    dreams 
Are  i)ut  the  needful   preludes  of  the  truth. 
For  me,  the  genial  day,  the  hapj)y  crowd. 
The   sport    half-science,   fill   me   with   a    faitli. 
Tills  fine  old  w  orld  of  ours  is  but  a  child 
Yet  in  the  go-cart.     Patience  I   Give  it  time 
To    leai'n     it>    limbs;    there    is    a    hand    that 
guides.' 

In   such    discourse    we    gain'd    the    garden 

rails. 
And  there  we  saw  Sir  Walter  where  he  stood, 
Before  a  tower  of  crim.son  holly-oaks. 
Among  six  boys,  head  under  liead,  and  look'd 
No  little  lily-handed  baronet  he, 
A  great  broad  shouldered  genial  Englishman, 
A  loi'd  of  fat  prize-oxen  and  of  sl-.ecp, 
A  raiser  of  huge  melons  and  of  pine, 
A  jiati'on  of  some  thirty  charities, 
A   pamphleteer  on  guano  and  on  grain. 
A   quarter-sessions   chairman,   abler   none; 
Fair-hairM   and    redder   than   a    windy   morn; 
Now    shaking    haniN    with    him,    now    him,    of 

t  hose 
That     stood     the    nearest — now    addressM    to 

speech — 
\Vho    spoke    few    W(H-d.s    and    pithy,    sucii    as 

closed 
AA'elconu',   farewell,  and   welcome  for  the  year 
To  follow.      .\  shout   rosi    again,  and  made 
The    haig    line    of    the    ap|iroaching    rookery 

sWH'r\e 


A    M  ED  LEY 


From  the  elms,  and  shook  tlic  brandies  of  tlic 

deer 
From  sl()j)c  to  slope  thro'   distant   ferns,  and 

rang- 
Bcyond  the  bourn  of  sunset — 0,  a  sliout    . 
More  joyful  tiian  the  eity-roar  that  hails 
Premier  or  king !    Why  should  not  these  great 

sirs 
Give  uj)  their  parks  some  dozen  times  a  year 
To   let   the   j)eoj)k'   breathe?      So   thrice  tiiey 

cried, 
I  likewise,  and  in  groiij)s  thev  streaniM  nwa}'. 

But  we  went  back  to  the  Abbey,  and  sat  on, 
So    much    the    gathering   darkness    chann'd ; 
we  sat 


But  spoke  not,  rapt  in  nameless  reverie. 
Perchance  uj)on  the   future  mi»n.     The  walls 
Blacken'd   about   as,   bats   whcel'd,   and    owls 

whcop'd. 
And  gradually  the  powers  of  the  niglit. 
That  range  aljove  tlie  region  of  the  wind. 
Deepening     the     courts     of     twihght     broke 

them    uj) 
Tlu-o'   all    thr   silent    spaces   of   the  worlds. 
Beyond    all    thouglit    into    the    heaven    of 

lieavens. 

Last  little  Lilia,  rising  quietlv, 
Disrobed  tlie  glimmering  statue  of  Sir  Ralph 
From  those  ricli  silks,  and  home  well-pleased 
we  went. 


THE  END 


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